Transitions Whouffle Prompts
by ThePotterDoctor
Summary: A series of One-Shots based on Eleven x Clara prompts. PM me your suggestions. Rated M to be safe. Update: MOST OF THESE PROMPTS ARE SET IN THE SAME UNIVERSE AS TRANSITIONS
1. Mist

***Hi guys, so if you guys hit me up with your suggestions, either on here or Tumblr: whovianmachine, I'll write a series of short Whouffle drabbles, usually 500-1500 words and publish them here. Varying content levels, starting off fairly mild but I will throw in smut, swearing and violence at any point so be warned. TPD***

Clara stepped out of the TARDIS, the Doctor promising he'd be along in a moment as he delved quickly into the TARDIS to grab Clara a pair of sunglasses. They were in Egypt after all. Or at least, they were supposed to be. The TARDIS often took them to the wrong place and it appeared that this time she was way off course. They were in a jungle of some sort and Clara took a few steps forward through the trees before turning back towards the TARDIS to call the Doctor. But the TARDIS was gone, and she was surrounded by a big, thick mist of fog, so deep that she couldn't see anything in any direction. She ran back towards the TARDIS but it had disappeared and all she could see in every direction was fog. Clara staggered on a tree root and came to a halt. She was well and truly lost.

"Doctor?" she screamed.

"Clara!" she could hear his voice but she couldn't see him. "I'm so sorry Clara, I thought we were going to Egypt. This place, it's not even Earth. The mist has a mind of its own. Well it doesn't really, it's just low level psychic channels being resonated by a…"

"Doctor shut up!" Clara snapped. "How do I get out of here? Where are you?"

"I'm still inside the TARDIS. If I step out, the mist will swallow me too. The mist is being controlled by a powerful psychic entity. If it wanted you dead it would have killed you by now so it must want something from you. You need to try and talk to it. I'm right here; I'll guide you through it."

"Doctor," Clara said quietly. "I'm scared."

"Don't be, I won't let anything happen to you. Now just focus all your thoughts on the mist. All of them. Let the mist envelop you, let it bind itself to your soul. And then, it should be obvious what it wants."

Clara focused all her thoughts, all her energy on the mist and handing control over to it. As she did so, one thought kept cropping up over and over again and Clara felt herself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. The Doctor. The mist wanted the Doctor. If the Doctor stepped into the mist, it would release Clara. She didn't say anything. She couldn't say anything. She couldn't tell him. If she told the Doctor that the mist wanted him, he step out, step into the mist and he'd sacrifice himself for her in a heartbeat. And she wouldn't let it do that. She loved him too much. She'd never told him, she rarely even admitted it to herself, but that was it. She couldn't do it.

"Doctor," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I love you."

"Clara?" the Doctor sounded terrified. "What have you done? Clara?!" he was yelling now, but the mist was clearly and Clara found herself stood where she started, just two steps ahead of the TARDIS. She swivelled and threw herself into his arms. "Clara, what did you give it?" he asked, pained.

"Nothing!" she said. "It wanted you, but I wouldn't let it have you. What? What is it?"

The Doctor was smirking. "That wasn't what the mist wanted, that was what you wanted Clara. The mist showed you what you wanted so that you'd go after it. It's motivational mist, it shows you what you want most in the world and when you admit it, it lets you free. So you want me eh? You love me?"

"Shut up!" Clara swatted at him and then he kissed her, their lips locking and passion running through her.

"I love you too, my Impossible Girl."


	2. Ghost and Owl

***This prompt is for Tangyman, I saw the words Ghost and Owl and immediately knew I wanted to do a very fluffy Halloween fic based on costumes. I hope you all enjoy and feel free to PM or review with more prompts or find me on Tumblr: whovianmachine TPD***

Clara Oswald loved Halloween. Every year it was an excuse to dress up in the best costumes. Every year, she thought of something brilliant and imaginative. This year, she was just putting the finishing touches on her costume design for her work party, when her plus one for the evening arrived. She took the steps two at a time, opening the door just as he was about to knock. He always looked confused when she did that and every single time she'd have to explain to him that his mode of transportation was exceedingly noisy when it landed. Half the neighbours looked out their windows confused when the Big Blue Box appeared outside her house. She'd asked him politely to park it round back.

"Clara," the Doctor said, slightly confused. "What are you wearing?"

"I'm an owl!" Clara grinned, twirling. Her hair was all over the place and she had owl ears on. She had hundreds of brown feathers formed into wings behind her and her face was painted to match her brown t-shirt and skirt. The Doctor raised an eyebrow as she looked him up and down. "Where the hell is your costume Chin?"

"Costume?" the Doctor looked confused. "Oh yes it's a Halloween party and I'm your date for the evening. Hang on, I've got something lying around in the TARDIS. I won't be long."

"Plus one, Doctor. Not date," Clara informed him. "And be quick, we need to leave soon."

She raised an eyebrow and headed back inside, followed a few minutes later by the Doctor, who was looking excited. She was very worried, it had to be said. Whatever the Doctor considered a good Halloween costume would probably be…

"A sheet?" she asked incredulously. "A fucking sheet? Are you serious?"

"I'm a ghost!" the Doctor her. She could practically see the stupid smirk on his face through the thin layer of white bedding he had draped over him. "Isn't it awesome Clara?"

Clara wanted more than anything to point out that it was in fact the worst attempt at a costume she had ever seen, but she had a better idea. She smiled brightly at the Doctor and guided him through the kitchen. She instructed him to sit while she made tea and smiled wickedly as she slipped the flour out of the cupboard. He wasn't looking at her as she whipped off the sheet and proceeded to try and dump the flour over his head. He reacted with lightning fast speed, grabbing hold of her wrist. The flour bag teetered and she pulled at him. They tumbled backwards and the flour bag exploded, showering Clara as she spluttered and gasped. She could hear the Doctor wheeze but all she could see was white. She sat up and laughed hysterically. He was covered from head to toe in flour, white as a sheet.

"Now you're a proper ghost!" she said smugly. He too was laughing and Clara groaned as she realised she too was deathly white. She ran a hand through her white hair and groaned. That was going to be a nightmare to wash out. She clambered to her feet and grinned at the Doctor, going to take his arm. "I suppose I'll have to be Hedwig for the night. A snowy owl is still an owl after all and I went to a lot of work for this. I suppose I'd better enjoy our date."

"I thought I was just your plus one?" the Doctor quizzed, a smug grin on his face as they stepped outside.

"Nah," Clara smiled and kissed his cheek. "You're my date."


	3. The Return of Mr Clever

***TPD here. Hello all, this a prompt I got for the return of Mr Clever from foxgoddes07. This prompt is set in the Transitions universe, as will all of these prompts. I hope you guys enjoy it!***

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><p>"For the last time Clara!" the Doctor shouted as she screamed and ducked. "Get back inside the TARDIS! I can't protect you here!" He cursed and soniced the door behind them shut. That wouldn't hold them for long. "Clara Oswald, I am warning you!"<p>

"What're you going to do?" Clara smirked. "Divorce me?"

"I've a good mind to!" the Doctor muttered irritated as he shoved her into the blue box. He soniced the TARDIS door shut and cursed as she soniced it open from the inside. "I keep forgetting you can do that," he said, more to himself than her. She grabbed his hand and tried to wrench him inside but he slipped into her arms and kissed her before wrenching her sonic out of her hands, slamming the TARDIS door and sonicing it locked. "There, now stay in!" he muttered, as the layer of wood between them shut out Clara's inevitable yells of anger. He turned to face the Cybermen as the door between them was blasted open and three Cyber units converged, their guns pointed at the Doctor.

"You will be upgraded!" one croaked. "You will become like us."

"No," the Doctor replied, diving to his left as they unleashed their Cybermites. The Doctor fiddled crashed open a control panel with his sonic and started tampering with wires and levers. The Cybermen just stood, watching. They were confident then, that the Mites would do the job. They covered the Doctor as he focused his only task on finishing the job. "Who da man?" he yelled, turning back to them as alarms started going off and in the distance, the explosions started. "Toodloo boys!" the Doctor grinned, throwing himself into the TARDIS as the Cybermen starting firing. He collided with Clara, knocking her to the floor as she pounded angrily on his chest. He kicked shut the TARDIS door and felt his mind slip away from him. The Cybermites. He had to protect Clara. The Doctor yelled in pain and then he was gone.

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><p>"Doctor?" Clara asked tentatively as he fell off her, sprawling in pain and screaming. "Doctor what's wrong?" He stood up, looking confident and commanding. She was immediately worried as he stared at the wedding ring like he'd never seen it before.<p>

"Oh you're Clara. The Impossible Girl. I remember now. The Cybermen have been inside this brain before. Never extrapolated anything useful of course. I am…Mr Clever. Yes, the Doctor cheated us once before, but not this time. You're our insurance Clara Oswald. Try anything, Doctor and I will kill her with your hands. Would you like that? Clara!" The change in personality was alarming. "Get out of here," he warned her. "I can't control him. I may have to regenerate. I could get rid of him, get him out of my brain."

"But I'd lose you," Clara whispered and the Doctor flinched momentarily. "You'd change."

"You've already lost him Clara Oswald," Mr Clever sneered and opened the TARDIS doors. The Cybership that they'd been on was gone, and Mr Clever's face fell. "He blew it up. All of it. Well, we'll have to rebuild. Somewhere else. How about," he looked at Clara and smirked wickedly, a look that did not suit the Doctor's face. "Earth."

Clara stepped between him and the console and slapped Mr Clever so hard he turned into the Doctor, who yelled in pain and then smiled at Clara.

"Hello Clara," he greeted. "Now I need to regenerate. Or, find another way to get rid of the Cybermites, any ideas? Oh and before I forget or lose control, take this!" he tossed her a screwdriver. She caught it and ran over to the console. "There'll be something, somewhere in this ship. Any ideas?"

"He wants to go back to Earth," Clara warned. "Can we stop the TARDIS from flying?"

"Yes," the Doctor paused. "But anything I do, I can undo. Hello flesh girl." He'd changed. "Now then, let's take you home." He grabbed Clara's arm forcefully as she tried to run from him and his face disgusted her. Because his evil smile mutilated the kind and loving face of her husband. "What would your father say? Marrying an alien from outer space? Ohh he already knows. Well, I'll kill him first. And make you watch. Then, I'll turn his dead body into Cyber form. Would you like that Clara Oswald? Or would you rather I turned you first? Actually, I'm not allowed to turn you. One moment." He paused a second, like he was having an internal discussion. "Ah good, I've taken control of the brain. The Doctor allowed me access to 60% in exchange for your life. A promise I am about to break."

Clara stared at him in horror and then smiled. "You're forgetting something," she said and Mr Clever raised an eyebrow. "You're still in the Doctor's body and I happen to know that last week when we went skiing, the Doctor injured his left knee. And he's not properly healed yet. Sorry about this Chin-boy, I'll make up for it in bed later."

She kicked the Doctor in the left knee and he howled in pain as she ran. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that he had doubled over, unable to control his own body. She pointed her sonic at him and tried to scramble the Cybermites using the program he had installed. She swore. The Cyber Planner had control of his body. They'd made a deal, for her life. Clara didn't know what to do. She needed to fry the Cybermites. Something that wouldn't kill the Doctor. What would work against tiny robots? The TARDIS was making a noise and as she rounded a corner, she saw the Doctor/Mr Clever waiting for her. He smiled wickedly and Clara looked around for somewhere to hide. There was a door to her left and she flung herself through it, the Doctor right behind her. Of course, she realised. Swimming pool. Water. Run a low level current through it…

The Doctor followed her in and she prayed that this would work. Worst case scenario, the Doctor, her Doctor would regenerate. She didn't contemplate that option. She wasn't going to lose the man she loved, let him become someone else. Losing her Doctor would destroy her almost as much as losing the Doctor. She stepped to one side as he lunged and he crashed into the pool. Clara snatched up her hairdryer, left on the side from earlier on that day, when she'd been for a swim. She soniced it, targeting the battery power levels and then hurled it into the pool, praying for a miracle.

The swimming pool lit up, a crackling electrical energy passing through it. Mr Clever roared in pain as the electricity ran through him, the noise torture to her ears as it was the Doctor in pain. When the electricity faded, Clara jumped into the pool, swimming over to him as he lay face down in the water. She called his name and turned him, checking a pulse and relieved to find he was still alive. His eyes flickered open and she stared at him, tears welling up.

"So, not dead then?" she whispered. "No regeneration? No new Doctor?"

"Nope," he whispered. "I'm in a lot of pain though, could you help me out?"

"Doctor," she kissed his cheek. "My Doctor. We have the rest of our lives to help each other out."


	4. Lost in Translation

***A Lost In Translation prompt for xandrota! Don't forget to hit me up with your own ideas, either by PM or review and I will stick them up here. I'm tempted to make the next one before they marry but if anyone has any other suggestions, feel free to let me know. I'd do a honeymoon one but that'll be at least a month long TARDIS travel so I'd need more specific suggestions tbh... The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Clara couldn't believe that after everything they'd been through together, the TARDIS still found new ways to screw with her head. She stormed through the corridors of the school until she found the Doctor's classroom and rapped angrily on the door. He gestured her to come in and she did. He was in the middle of an experiment and a giant green bubble filled the room. Clara felt her anger dissipate and she was fascinated by the bubble and went to poke it.<p>

"Clara no!" the Doctor yelled but it was too late and the bubble popped, showering Clara in green gunk from head to toe. She glared at the Doctor, who was wincing as the class burst into raucous laughter. She grabbed the Doctor by the bow tie and dragged him out of the room, wiping green from her face and arms onto his jacket.

"Your fucking TARDIS!" she snapped. "All the children in my class have speaking German for the last two hours. I can't speak German. Why is she translating their voices?"

The Doctor pulled a face and Clara glared at him furiously. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. She was still staring, still glaring. She was going to kill him. Ban him from sex for a month or worse, TARDIS travel for a month. She twisted her wedding ring on her finger, something she realised that she did when she was upset. They'd been married for two years and he still never failed to annoy her.

"I've been meaning to tell you…" the Doctor said and Clara poked his chest warningly. "First of all, green isn't your colour." Clara's eyes were on fire and he was scared. He should be. She shook her head furiously spraying him with green. She'd already had one day of green hair, she wasn't sure she could cope with another. "I was fiddling…"

"Fiddling?" Clara's voice had taken a worryingly violent tone and she was really starting to consider punching the Doctor. "Fiddling. How?" she punctuated each word and he bit his lip. "Fiddling with the translation matrix?"

"No!" he insisted. "But while I was working, I may have inadvertently broke the translation matrix. I haven't worked out how to fix it yet. I will, I promise. But the children are very distracting. I didn't think about it being a problem, I thought the children in this country spoke English."

"So go to the TARDIS," Clara snapped. "Go into the time vortex and work it out. Now. Wait, what do you mean you thought the children spoke English? You're telling me that the TARDIS isn't translating at all?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," the Doctor replied, nodding. "The children really are speaking German. Must be a collective prank of some kind. I think you need a shower. Let's go home, we can be back ten minutes ago if we take the TARDIS."

Clara agreed and they slipped out of school so she could shower and it gave Clara a chance to think of an adequate punishment for the children. She had an evil idea. She suggested it to the Doctor and he agreed. The TARDIS materialised in a school cupboard near their classrooms and they went their separate ways, arriving back moments after they left. Clara stormed into her classroom and all the children started animatedly chatting in German. Clara opened her mouth and spoke in German, courtesy of the repaired TARDIS translation matrix. She had spent her time on the TARDIS having her memories filtered, so she could remember everything that they had said that morning and had it translated.

"You know I speak German right?" The entire class's faces fell in unison. "Very clever, very good prank. Consider me suitably impressed. Seeing as how you're all so fond of German, I want you all to write me a 5000 word essay on your favourite German book over the weekend. If any of your parents feel that is unfair, I'd love to tell them what you were up to and some of the very embarrassing secrets you revealed this morning when you thought I couldn't understand you. So, are we all clear?"

There was a chorus of "Yes Mrs Oswald."

Mrs Oswald. She smiled at that. Her husband might just get a trip in the TARDIS that night after all…


	5. When Worlds Collide

***So, this is a response to the: Clara and the Doctor meet Jenna and Matt prompt I was sent by foxgoddess07. Not my best work if I'm honest but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway :) Please please please keep sending me prompts, I love writing them. Either PM me or review this story if you're a guest. Here we go. TPD***

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><p>Jenna-Louise Coleman was bored. Filming had ended a couple of days ago, so there was nothing to do but sit around and wait for her agent to call with another part. She missed Richard, who was off filming in Bulgaria for some film or another. And Matt, her bubbly best friend, was off to America in a couple of days, so she'd be abandoned. She was going to head back up to Blackpool, see her mum and then do some press stuff. She loved interacting with the fans, it made her day to see loads of little Clara's and Doctor's running around, dressed like her. She especially loved all the Oswins. There were loads of them, running in red dresses with utility belts and claiming to be awesome at baking soufflés. Jenna was actually fantastic at baking soufflés but it turned out that Clara wasn't. Jenna lay on her sofa, her tea within arm's reach, flicking through trash on the television.<p>

There was a flash outside the window, lightning accompanied by a crackling sound that steadily grew louder. Jenna stood and crossed to the window. The crackling was converging on her apartment block and she felt a chill run through her and then there was a very loud buzzing sound from behind her and Jenna whirled round and screamed. She was stood there. Well, at least it looked like her. More specifically, it looked like her dressed as Clara. The girl was Jenna's height, had the same face, the haircut that Jenna had been sporting prior to her restyle after finishing filming and the same eyes. She was wearing a red and black plaid skirt that was exactly the sort of thing that Jenna would have worn as Clara. The girl was covered from head to toe in disgusting red goo that smelled awful. She looked as shocked to see Jenna as Jenna was to see her. She hadn't heard her door open and it had been locked from the inside.

"Hello," Jenna said quietly. "Who are you?"

"Clara," the girl replied testily. "Clara Oswald. Why do you look like me? Where's the Doctor?"

"I was about to ask the same question," Jenna responded. "I'm sorry; did you say you were Clara Oswald?" The girl was obviously a nutcase, maybe even a stalker. Jenna was just about ready to call the police. "How did you get in here?"

"Yes, Clara Oswald," 'Clara' snapped. "Look, I'm really sorry about this but there was some weird transporting energy. One minute, I'm being held in a tank full of stupid gunge and then the next, I'm shot out of a cannon or something and end up here. I just need to wait for the Doctor to show up and then I'll be on my way. Listen, I hate to be a bitch, but can I use your shower?"

"No!" Jenna was losing her mind. "No you can't! Who are you? Are you some crazy stalker or something? I'm calling the police. This is too weird, get out. Get out now!"

"Okay, okay!" The girl held up her hands and was about to leave when a weird, groaning noise filled the room. Jenna recognised it instantly and glared furiously at her.

"Really?" she snapped, and the girl looked confused. "You bring your own TARDIS noises as well? What next, your best Matt Smith impersonator is going to appear?"

But the Matt Smith impersonator didn't appear. Instead, a big blue box that looked exactly like the exterior of the TARDIS materialised in the room. Jenna opened and shut her mouth a couple of times. The doors to the TARDIS opened and at this point, the Matt Smith impersonator stepped out. Jenna must've looked as stunned as she felt, because the person she assumed was the Doctor looked her up and down and shot a look at Clara.

"Oh dear," he said.

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><p>When Jenna had called him, jabbering frantically down the phone, Matt had been very worried about her. It would be so Jenna to drink too much wine and call him for no apparent reason but she sounded genuinely terrified, so he figured the least he could do was go over and try to calm her down. He rang the doorbell and she buzzed him up. When he knocked on her apartment door, there were sounds of a muffled conversation inside and then someone who looked extraordinarily like Matt opened the door. Matt raised his non-existent eyebrows and the stranger, who was dressed exactly like the Doctor, greeted him with air kisses and invited him in.<p>

The sight inside Jenna's apartment was beyond bizarre. There was a TARDIS in the middle of the room, at least it looked like a TARDIS, the strange Doctor figure flapping about, a girl who was dressed like Jenna when she played Clara, towelling her sopping wet hair and Jenna herself was sat down, blowing on a cup of tea, looking like she couldn't quite believe what was happening. Matt was lost for words.

"He looks nothing like me!" the 'Doctor' was complaining. "What is up with that buzz cut Clara, it is disgusting. And he's not even wearing a bow tie. Jenna, can you please control your man?"

"He's not my man!" Jenna exclaimed. "I have a boyfriend!"

"Boyfriend?" 'Clara' sounded horrified. "But what about the Doctor, I mean Matt?"

"What about me?" Matt was confused. "What's going on here? Jenna?"

"Matt," Jenna took a deep breath. "Go inside the TARDIS. It'll all make sense."

Matt stepped into the box and then ran back out. He stepped back in and stared at the Doctor, poking him gently with his finger.

"Good god!" he gasped. "You're real. You're the Doctor. You're actually the Doctor. Fuck me. I mean what the fuck? So you're Clara Oswald. The Clara Oswald. This is too weird, I don't understand. I don't get it. What the hell? Jenna?"

Whilst Matt dissolved into a gibbering wreck, Clara sat beside him and comforted him. Jenna stared at the Doctor, who was pacing the room, agitated.

"So you two aren't together?" he asked Jenna, visibly annoyed by this. "Why?"

"Because we both have partners," Jenna responded. "Doctor Who, it's fantastic and cool and amazing but it's only a part of my life. I have a great friendship with Matt and the chemistry works but we don't have that sort of connection. Why, are you and Clara together?"

"Engaged," the Doctor replied. "We've got the wedding tomorrow morning, but we can't seem to stop travelling. We've been in the TARDIS for…how long has it been Clara?"

"Two weeks!" Clara shouted back. "Are you sure you're okay Matt?"

"How is this possible?" Matt breathed.

"The universe is vast and complicated," the Doctor riffed. "For every dimension, there's one where things are different. There's one where our entire lives are chronicled as television show and you two are the actors who play us, just like there's one where the entire works of Harry Potter are real or one where fish people rule the Earth. Both of those we've crashed into before. There was a problem. Clara was kidnapped by the Order of the Silence, put into a dimension cannon and blasted through into this universe. That's what the red goo was, it was an insulator to protect her. The cracks in the skin of the universe are still there still growing and they knew that I'd have to go after Clara. And I'd end up trapped here. I managed to anchor the TARDIS in this reality to find Clara, but in doing so, I'm not sure how to get us home. Any ideas?" he was looking straight at Matt now. "You might not be me, but you must have picked up something whilst working on the set. Clara? Jenna? Thoughts?"

"None," Jenna replied, sipping her tea shakily and wondering how her life had become this. She shot Matt a shaky smile which he returned. Clara was hugging the Doctor now and they kissed, the sight of it weirding Jenna out. She could tell Matt was uncomfortable with it as well. He looked away and their eyes met. Matt smiled and Jenna returned it. The Doctor had his arm around Clara and he pulled her into the TARDIS. They returned a moment later and a grin was firmly planted on the Doctor's face.

"Goddit," he stated, and Jenna raised an eyebrow. The Doctor seemed to appreciate that as he laughed, despite the fact that Clara looked unnerved by it. "I've done it. I've found a way to take us home, all I had to do was reroute the chronic matterform base into the stratus nebula and none of you understand a word I'm saying. I did a clever thing. Clara, say goodbye, we're going home. Thank you very much for taking care of us Jenna Coleman, you're a wonderful Clara. As for you," he pointed to Matt. "What the hell is up with your chin?"

Matt found himself laughing at this and Jenna and Clara joined in. The Doctor waved goodbye and Clara hugged her doppelganger before stepping into the TARDIS. The TARDIS dematerialised and they were alone.

"Jenna?" Matt said quietly. "Did you drug me or did that really just happen?"

"I think," Jenna replied, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "That we just met the Doctor."


	6. Smutty Tumblr

***This one is a very smutty prompt, based on the Doctor discovering the smut tag on Tumblr and asking Clara to do some very naughty things to him. I must admit this isn't my kind of thing but I don't want to let my readers down so I gave it my best shot and I hope it's okay. Keep sending in your suggestions, ideas. Even if you just send me in one word I'll do what I can with it. To be honest the more ambiguous the better but if there's anything you really want to see, send it in. Also, in the last chapter I mentioned the Doctor and Clara crashing into the HP world. That is a fic I've written called: The Travellers, so if you're interested check it out. Thanks for reading and please please please keep sending in prompts either by PM or review TPD***

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><p>When Clara Oswald had agreed to look after Artie and Angie for the weekend, she had never anticipated this would happen. When they left on Sunday night, her fiancé was on Tumblr. Clara's eyebrows had hit her hair when she opened her bedroom door to see the Doctor on the laptop, playing around on Tumblr. He was looking very intrigued and Clara decided to leave him to it, when he turned to ask her something.<p>

"Clara?" he asked. "You've been on Tumblr?"

"Yes," Clara said slowly, worried about where this was going. "Why?"

"Well," the Doctor was pointing at something. "What is smut?"

There was no real answer that question. Clara bit her lip and tried to think of a reasonable response but was forced to admit to herself that there was none. The Doctor had already clicked on the smut tag and his face had fallen into a look of pure shock as he scrolled up and down, gasping and screeching at appropriate points. He seemed drawn to it in an odd way and Clara was about to leave when he summoned her back into the room with a tentative: "Clara?"

"What now?" Clara asked, exasperated, with a small smile breaking onto her face.

"Can we try some of this stuff?"

Clara's eyes almost popped out of her head as the Doctor swivelled round the laptop and Clara scanned it quickly, her smirk growing larger every second. The Doctor was looking slightly fearful and Clara climbed onto the bed, sweeping the laptop aside and leaning close to the Doctor so she was on top of him.

"Take off your shirt," she whispered. "Now."

The Doctor obeyed. He flung it away and Clara smiled smugly. "Bow tie. Keep on." He nodded. She prowled up and down him, and then smiled wickedly at him. "Hands above your head, on the headboard and keep them there. If you try to touch me, I'll slap you." The Doctor gulped and did as she asked.

Clara's hands were running down the Doctor's bare chest, every now and then a nail would stab into him and he'd gasp in pain and arousal. Clara kissed him now, running her hands through his hair and mounting him. His hands slipped around her neck and she broke the kiss to slap him back into position. He gasped and returned his hands where they belonged and Clara smiled. "Good boy." She raked kisses down his chest and then she reached his lower half. She pulled his trousers off and started handling him. She took her time, one stroke every now and then. "Down boy," she whispered and the Doctor tried to contain himself as she teased him, every now and then she'd shoot back to touch his face delicately, before launching into a slap as his hands slipped.

Clara was all over him now, her own clothes removed one by one tantalisingly until she was almost naked. But he wasn't allowed to see, so she removed his bow tie and tied it around his eyes so he couldn't enjoy the sight of her. She was in control, allowing parts of her body to rub tantalisingly close to his as he gasped and whenever he disobeyed her, he felt it. She allowed him to remove a hand as long as it was pleasuring her and if he slowed for a moment he was punished. The Doctor was in agony and Clara was in ecstasy. She removed her knickers and climbed on top of him, his grunts in time with hers as they shared their pleasure now. She controlled the rhythm, keeping him pinned under her and unable to say anything. Then, Clara felt herself tip over the edge and climbed off. The Doctor groaned.

"What's wrong?" Clara asked in a sickly sweet voice. "Are you not done yet?"

"Clara, please…"

"I'll let you finish, as long as you tell me who's in charge?"

"You are, Clara. You're in charge."

"Good boy." Clara returned her hand to him and finished the job she started. "Now I want you to stay nice and still until I return, alright?"

The Doctor nodded, still blindfolded. Clara giggled and went to shower and then went downstairs. She wondered exactly how long she'd be watching television before the Doctor realised that she wasn't coming back…


	7. Haunted House

***Hello all, this one is for a Haunted House prompt sent in by wholockian23. I hope you like it! As ever, please please send me your prompts! There will be another up either today or tomorrow and that one won't be set in the Transitions verse. Something entirely different, which I hope you'll enjoy. Thanks for reading! TPD***

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><p>Clara had never been scared of haunted houses. They were stupid, childish things with plastic skeletons and idiots wearing sheets that never scared her in the slightest. The Doctor had been telling her stories of people who went into them and never came out but even then it wasn't enough to convince her that they were anything to be scared of. So the Doctor took her to Florida, the year 2056, the scariest haunted house on planet Earth. Clara found it mind-numbingly boring. She wasn't even slightly scared of the idiots who jumped out at them, dressed as vampires and werewolves and various other headless or disgusting things. The Doctor screamed like a little girl and held tight to her arm. She had never known him to be such a big baby.<p>

"You were worse than one of my students in there," she informed him, as he pouted. "You were worse than most of your own students. Even that annoying one who always ruins your experiments?"

"Jimmy!" the Doctor pulled a face. "He keeps on telling me that there's no way a woman as amazing and beautiful as Miss Oswald will ever marry a stupid physics teacher. He thinks you'll back out of the wedding. It's okay, I keep sonicing his locker shut, watching him struggle with it is hilarious."

"Sonicing the locker shut," Clara made a mental note to store that for a rainy day, when the kids were really driving her nuts. "Take me to a real haunted house Chin-Boy!"

"Are you sure?" the Doctor asked her. "Because there is one, a few hundred thousand years and a few galaxies away…"

"Take me!" Clara jumped up and down like a child, twisting her engagement ring on her finger. She always did that when she was nervous. "I want to be so scared that I'm crying and screaming."

"Clara, you won't like it. Not one bit. They don't just scare you generically. The fears are real, in tune to you."

"I can handle it," Clara beamed at him. "Scare me Chin-Boy."

The Doctor reluctantly agreed and they hopped into the TARDIS, travelling through time and space to a small, backwater planet known as Frectous VI, which the Doctor said was on top of a psychic hot spot, a hole in the fabric of the cosmos, where psychic energy bled through. An American company had built a haunted house there and called it Hauntos! The Scariest Place In The Universe! Clara was sceptical.

They held hands as they entered, Clara already feeling the Doctor sweat. He knew what was coming, she could tell. He had been here before. With Rose, he had explained. She had lasted two minutes in this hell hole. Clara wondered if he was comparing them, but shut out that thought. When she asked him how long he had lasted, he had replied that the house didn't affect him. Given how a moron in a bed sheet had terrified him, she highly doubted it was that simple. His hand slipped off of hers and she reached out to him, but he was already gone.

"You must face your fears alone," said a strange voice in her head. "The code word is something personal to you. Shout it and your experience will stop. What is your code word?"

"Ellie," Clara said without a moment's hesitation. She looked around, but there was only black, no signs of anything. Then she felt her stomach drop and she was falling. When she landed, it was soft, and she looked around, desperate to see what was coming for her. Nothing appeared for a moment, and then she heard it. The sirens. Of course, she should have known. Clara ran from the noise but it got louder. The police were here to tell her. Tell her that her mum was dead. It wasn't real, Clara reminded herself. But the noise had stopped as quickly as it had begun. Clearly, the house had changed its mind.

"Clara!" The Doctor called to her and ran into view, throwing his arms around her. "Thank God you didn't see her. See River!" he explained when Clara raised an eyebrow at him. "She's everywhere in here Clara," he explained. "She's my fear. My greatest fear. The fear that she'll never come back for me."

Clara felt dizzy and sick. The Doctor's hands were still on her but they were rising. "River said I had to kill you," he said quietly and Clara screamed as his hands were around her throat. "I'm sorry Clara, but there's no other way for us to be together. You must die."

"You." Clara snarled. "Aren't real. You're not the Doctor. Now back off."

She kicked him away and he stumbled backwards, looking shocked. Then, the real Doctor staggered into view, throwing his arms around Clara, his eyes full of love, so much more than that illusion.

"Can we leave?" the Doctor asked. "TARDIS. That's my code word," he explained. Clara nodded and followed him outside. The fresh air felt good after the black and cold and claustrophobia of the house. "Sorry," he apologised. "I know you wanted a scaring but I lied, it was rough for me in there. I saw you dying over and over again and I couldn't handle it as well as I thought. Clara, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Clara muttered. "It's just…what is that?"

Something was moving behind him, rapidly getting closer to them. Then, Clara heard it shriek: "Exterminate!" and shoot the Doctor in the back. Daleks. On Frectous VI?

"Doctor!" Clara screamed, holding him. "Doctor, please wake up." He didn't. "I don't know what to do! Doctor? Doctor?" Clara was screaming and crying now, holding her Doctor and sobbing. Then she had a thought, the only thought left that could save her. It wasn't real? Ellie. "Ellie!" she screamed. "Ellie! For the love of God Ellie!"

And she stepped out of the haunted house. The Doctor was waiting for her outside and threw his arms around her. She was pale and shaking. She looked at her watch. She'd been in the house for four minutes.

"Did it work?" the Doctor asked her and she stared at him. "Were you scared?"

"Next time I ask you to take me to a haunted house," Clara said quietly. "Stick with Florida in 2056."


	8. Clara Gets Sick

***Morning all! Early start today, woke up at 8 and bored as sin so cracked on with this particular prompt nice and early. This is for JuliAugust, who requested a someone gets sick chapter. So here we are. Nice and fluffy and warm and full to bursting with Transitions references that I hope you'll appreciate. If you're interested in the pancake story, that's Chapter 16/17 I think of Transitions. In any case, keep hitting me up with prompts, something else is coming your way soon and it's an AU, which I hope you'll enjoy. Send in your ideas and I'll get round to them as soon as I can! I have 16 hours to kill and a lot to do so I'd better get down to it, but I'll be back soon peeps! TPD***

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><p>It had all started with a sneeze. Clara had sneezed and one of her students had said bless you. For most people, a sneeze was the sort of thing that you shrugged off. It didn't mean anything. But for Clara, it instantly worried her. When you travelled in the TARDIS, little things like sneezes were worrying, because they could be symptoms of some crazy alien disease. The fact that the previous night, the Doctor had taken her to one of the most gorgeous planets she'd even seen, to see the festival of pollination, was playing over and over in her mind. She sneezed three more times that lesson and one of her pupils, a particularly hormone ridden fifteen year old named Carl, asked if she was feeling alright or she needed someone to look after her. This earned him a few laughs and she shot him a glare. Someone was getting their locker soniced shut.<p>

"No Carl," she replied breezily. "I'm fine. And even if I wasn't, I have a husband to take care of me; I have no need of a hormonal fifteen year old boy whose ego is probably bigger than his…" Clara stopped herself and Carl went red, shrinking in his seat as the students laughed. "Back to work everyone!" Clara instructed. The students respected Clara, so they did so. It was good to be the teacher that people loved.

By lunchtime, she was feeling pretty wretched. She avoided the staffroom, knowing exactly what the Doctor would say if he saw her. He'd instruct her to go home and she had a particularly difficult to cover in her A-level class that afternoon, who she couldn't abandon or pass off onto anyone else. The Doctor, however, being the Doctor, pitched up in her classroom, a tea cup in each hand, his lunchbox under his arm. He was smiling warmly, but his smile faltered slightly when he saw Clara. He set the tea down and put a hand to her forehead, instantly picking up on her pale, clammy skin and her coughing and sneezing.

"You look awful," he said bluntly and Clara rolled her eyes. Three years of marriage hadn't taught him anything about sensitivity. "And you have a fever. Clara, you're sick." He pulled out his screwdriver and Clara slapped his arm down.

"No sonicing," she snapped. "I'm fine! Really! Just let me get through my A-level class and we can talk about it later. I bet it's your fault. You and your stupid pollination festival."

"You loved the pollination festival!" the Doctor replied, hurt. "I thought it was a nice treat, it had been ages since we'd been on the TARDIS…" It had been a week. Clara loved how after all this time; he still got agitated when they spent longer than three or four days without a trip into the time vortex. He claimed the TARDIS whined at him, but Clara knew the truth. She felt it too, the pull. The rush of adventure. Just not as much as he did. She had long since grown to love their bed at home more than her bedroom on the TARDIS, even though he always joined her in it.

"Doctor," Clara coughed at this point. "I'm fine. Go away, you're fussing. I'll see you tonight. If I'm still sick then, I'll take tomorrow off, I promise."

"Tomorrow is Saturday," the Doctor replied, confused. Bugger, she was really hoping that he hadn't worked that out. That trick had worked once upon a time. She was losing her edge. Or he was getting better at understanding linear timelines. After an hour of cajoling and hot tea, Clara was feeling a lot better, although she suspected the Doctor had slipped something into her tea. The Doctor agreed to let her stay for the afternoon and Clara got her second wind.

By the time she got home that evening, however, she felt worse than ever, all snot and sweat. She went straight to bed and slept for seemed like an eternity. She woke up, feeling hot and sticky. The Doctor's arm was wrapped around her and she sat up, promptly sneezing loudly and waking him up with a jump. He yelped and she laughed at that, which sent her into a coughing fit. The Doctor leapt to his feet now and she looked pitifully at him.

"I'm fide," Clara informed him. She winced and his non-existent eyebrow shot up.

"If you can't even say the word 'fine', then you're not fine!" the Doctor insisted. She spluttered at this point, coughing up green gunk and she wanted to burst into tears. She felt awful. The Doctor grabbed his sonic off the bedside table and went to scan her, earning himself an electric shock and dropping out with a yelp.

"Mide!" Clara informed him, cursing mentally at her inability to say simple words. The Doctor was muttering under his breath as he placed her sonic on her side of the bed, reminding himself to disable the feature Clara had installed to stop him stealing and using it. He grabbed his own sonic and ran it up and down her, frowning at the results.

"Yep, you've got the flu," he informed her. "You must have picked up something from the pollination ceremony. Nothing serious, you should be fine by Monday. I'll stay here and take care of you."

He raced out the room before Clara could protest and she heard the TARDIS dematerialise. She muttered a string of curses under her breath. Whatever he was planning, it was inevitably going to be overly extravagant, unnecessary and frankly irritating. It was why she loved him. For their third anniversary, he had taken her to see the birth of the Sun. It was the most mesmerising thing she had ever seen. Except for every morning, when she woke up and looked into the Doctor's eyes. The TARDIS rematerialized and she heard him curse as he stumbled out of it. She giggled and this ripped her throat raw, causing Clara to cough and splutter repeatedly as she gasped for air. The Doctor crashed into the bedroom, a wicked smile on his face.

"I wasn't gone long?" he asked and she shook her head. "Good. I brought water from the waterfalls of Chereiscory, the purest water in the universe, drink up. Also, we can't go back there for a while, the locals were screaming something about stealing their sacred water. Some shots were fired, but don't worry, I dodged. Oh don't give me that look!" he added and Clara folded her arms to signal her discontent. The fact that he had once been shot, twice, while out getting her pancakes had left her very annoyed when the Doctor put himself in dangerous situations for her. He placed the water by her head and she smiled appreciatively, sipping it.

"I also got this, the fluffiest pillow in the universe!" he grinned and placed it behind her. Her eyebrow hit her fringe and he shrugged. "I know a pillow guy," he added with a wink and Clara snorted another exceedingly painful motion that left her in agony. "Hot soup!" the Doctor shouted, producing a bowl from nowhere. Clara had given up asking. "Tomato and herb. And by herb, I don't mean basil, I mean Sredhuytosm. From…"

"Doctor," Clara interrupted. "Shut up. Just crawl into bed beside me and tell me a story."

The Doctor sat with Clara all day, feeding her soup and kissing her forehead. Whenever she felt cold, he wrapped himself around her. Whenever she was warm, he fanned her gently. Every so often, he'd rush out, getting some crazy thing or other, making wild proclamations about what she strongly suspected was just tap water and paracetamol.

"Doctor," Clara whispered as night fell and she felt herself drifting towards sleep. "I love you. I love you more than anything."

"Oh Clara," the Doctor smiled as he held her tightly, kissing the top of her head. "My Clara. I love you too. More than anything."


	9. Awkward First Date

***Hello again, me again. Back so soon! Another prompt and this is the AU I promised. This one is for an anonymous Tumblrite, who asked for an awkward first date, so here we have it. The Doctor and Clara's awkward first date. I hope you enjoyed it, as this is one of my personal favourites. Keep sending in prompts and I'll get them up as soon as I can. Thanks for sticking with me guys and as ever, thanks for reading! TPD***

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><p>Clara Oswald wondered why she did half of the things that she did for Rory Williams. But she knew the answer. Rory and her had grown up together, friends since they were tiny. When Clara's mother had died when Clara was sixteen, Rory had been there and he had taken care of her. Now that they were both twenty and attending the University of Leadworth, Clara had found herself become more and more introverted, no matter what Rory tried. Even so, this was an apocalyptically bad idea. But, Rory had begged and pleaded with Clara, so she'd agreed to it. A double date. A double date with Rory. Christ almighty, this was going to be brutal. Rory had seen Amelia Pond a few times before, he informed her that this was to be their fourth date. But he was worried that things would stop flowing and that he'd need a way out. Plus, he'd been telling Clara to get out into the world for weeks, so he'd clearly seen this as an opportunity to set her up. Amy's friend, who Clara knew nothing about, was apparently more introverted than Clara and if Amy didn't drag him into the real world, he'd spend his whole life fiddling with his toys. And apparently that wasn't a euphemism.<p>

Apparently, Clara's date had offered to pay for everything, being extremely rich, so they were going to a nice restaurant. Clara had always taken nice to mean stuffy but when Rory asked her to dress nicely to fit the occasion, she had sighed, grumbled and got on with it. Clara put on her favourite, long red dress, that cut tight to her body. She curled her hair and put on a small amount of makeup. She checked with Rory if she looked okay and he told her that she looked wonderful. Then Rory did that little smile that he did when he was nervous and trying to tell Clara something nice without coming off as flirting. He was adorable, Clara had long since decided.

They reached the restaurant and Amy and Clara's date were already there, waiting at their table. Rory jogged straight ahead of Clara, who hung back for a moment as Amy stood and embraced Rory. They were animatedly chatting before Clara reached the table, so wrapped up in the conversation that she doubted she'd get another word out of Rory for the rest of the evening. Brilliant. That left her with…him. He had completely failed to acknowledge her presence, so wrapped up was he with something in his lap. Clara cleared her throat and he jumped to attention, eyes almost popping out of his head as he stared at her. He was tall and gangly, with floppy dark hair and a huge chin. He was wearing a suit jacket of tweed and a black bow tie. He cursed as he realised she was there and stumbled to his feet, rushing round to help her into her seat.

"Crap," he said and his voice was quite low. "I'm so sorry, I forgot I was supposed to be here with someone. I should show you to your seat, right, that's what blokes do on dates isn't it?"

This did not bode well, Clara decided, as she took a seat awkwardly as he flailed and then sat down again, managing to knock over Clara's water in the process.

"Oh God!" he groaned, desperately trying to mop it up with his napkin as a waiter hurried. "I am so sorry! Again! Christ, I don't know what Amy was thinking, I'm utterly useless at this sort of thing."

Despite his awkwardness and clear lack of any social skills, Clara found him endearing. She didn't say anything as the waiters cleaned up and they sat there for a few moments in awkward silence as Amy and Rory grew closer to Clara's left. They were now reaching across the table, holding hands and making kissy faces at each other.

"Are we supposed to be doing that?" Clara's date asked awkwardly and Clara giggled at that. "People call me the Doctor, no idea why. I call me the Doctor too, still no idea why…" He seemed to disappear into his head and Clara smiled at this strange man with his strange name.

"Clara," she said suddenly, acutely aware it was the first thing that she had said since they'd met. "Clara Oswald. If it helps, I've not been on a proper date either really. And in truth, I've never been a fan of fancy restaurants. Too…stuffy."

The Doctor pulled a face. Clara worried she'd offended him but when he answered, she was pleasantly surprised. "Me too," he agreed. "But Amy is my best friend. I've known her for as long as I can remember. And I know she wanted a really nice, fancy evening with Rory and it's my pleasure to give it to her if I can. I suppose you and I can get through one evening?"

"Yeah," Clara acknowledged. "We can. I've known Rory since we were kids. I'm doing this for him."

There was another awkward pause now as they both seemed to realise that they had at least one thing in common. Neither of them really wanted to be there.

"So what is it you were working on?" Clara asked, trying to make conversation. "Rory said you were a scientist?"

"You wouldn't understand," the Doctor waved his hand and this irritated Clara.

"Because I'm a girl?" Clara riposted and he went pale.

"No!" he replied. "Because it's very complicated and you're only an English student."

Only an English student? Clara raised an eyebrow and he bit his lip apologetically.

"Try me. I read quantum physics in my spare time!" Clara snapped back, a smirk appearing on her face now. She was determined to prove him wrong and she didn't even know why.

"Transdimensional pocket device, trying to access other realities," the Doctor said, throwing it to her. Clara caught it and examined it.

"You're using a fourthfold manifold cortex as its power source?" she asked and the Doctor's jaw dropped. "Impressed?" she winked and he spluttered. "I'm something of a genius," Clara admitted, throwing it back to him.

"I'm sorry Clara Oswald," the Doctor replied. "Again. I underestimated you. I've never met anyone who understands how this works. I didn't realise anyone else could."

"Well it turns out I'm the girl who can," Clara smirked again. She felt a rush of victory run through her. She was here now; she might as well enjoy it. They lapsed back into another awkward silence now and Clara shot a look at Rory and Amy, who were so close they were almost kissing. It made her nauseous.

"So, you're from Blackpool?" the Doctor tried first this time. "That's where Rory's from right? That must be nice."

A lame conversation starter, Clara had to admit, but at least he was trying. She supposed if they were stuck in this date together, they might as well make the effort.

"Yeah," Clara replied, before realising that that was a pretty poor response. "It has its charms. Had its charms rather, I'm glad to be rid of it. You're from London? I can tell by the accent."

"Very astute," the Doctor noted. "Yeah, you could say that. I grew up in London boarding schools. You know how it is, parents that are never around, shunting you from nanny to boarding school and back to nannies during the holidays…never able to make friends because all the other kids think you're odd for being so smart."

"Sounds lonely," Clara replied quietly, suddenly empathising with him. No wonder he'd developed so little social skills. "I'd hate to not have my parents around." Her eyes were swirling slightly as she thought of her mother and for a moment, the silence surrounding them was no longer awkward. The Doctor reached out to touch her arm and she smiled warmly at him. Amy and Rory had started kissing now. Clara was getting sick of it.

"Listen," she bit her lip nervously. "Doctor?" He retracted his hand from her and nodded. "Would you like to get out of here?" His eyes widened and he spluttered. "Down boy," Clara giggled and he seemed to relax. "I just mean, there's a nice coffee shop just down the road, we can leave these two to it."

"We haven't even ordered yet!" the Doctor smiled. "Are we really abandoning this date so early?"

"We're not abandoning," Clara smiled. "Just relocating. I'd like to get to know you Doctor, just not in this place."

The Doctor dropped his card on the table, informing Clara that Amy knew his details anyway, so he'd still be paying for their meal. Then, he took Clara's arm which made her blush and they strolled down the street to the coffee shop. They sat there talking all evening and eventually, when they were kicked out at midnight and the shop closed, Clara found herself inviting him back to her place. At this point, she thought she'd given him a heart attack but he agreed and they stayed up all night, drinking tea and nattering. The next morning, Rory returned to their flat to find Clara and the Doctor lying together on the sofa, curled up in each other's arms and he texted Amy: _Mission Accomplished. _


	10. Doctor Who Watches Doctor Who

***This is for the Doctor Who watches Doctor Who I had sent in by whovianwrites. The Doctor and Clara watch Doctor Who and the Doctor is distinctly unimpressed. As ever, this is set in the same universe as Transitions so if you haven't read it then spoilers! But if you do find any of the hints I've thrown interesting, check it out. Both the references in this one are very far into the story and one completely spoils the plot so I wouldn't read this until you either have read Transitions or have no intention of reading it. As ever, please send in your prompts and I'll write them ASAP. PM me, or leave them in a review :) Plus, find me on tumblr at whovianmachine TPD***

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><p>The Doctor trudged in with the shopping as Clara glanced up, her eyes alight. It had been his week to go food shopping and it had taken Clara a long time to trust him enough to let him go, as he tended to return with fish fingers and custard and jammy dodgers. After five years of marriage, she'd reined him in. He'd even stopped using the TARDIS, which Clara considered a minor miracle. She bounced up and down in front of him as he raised an eyebrow, unpacking the food.<p>

"What is it?" he asked cautiously. "You're all…excitable. Christ, is this what I'm like normally?"

"Yes," Clara replied, a beaming grin on her face. "You have to come and watch TV with me. Now. You're not going to believe this." The Doctor strongly suspected that he was on the news again. This did happen, something crazy was going on and another past version of him or future version was stopping it. On more than one occasion, he'd done it himself without telling Clara, only for her to flip out when she saw him on the news actually doing it. Still, at least he hadn't written any more Gallifreyan messages to her on the Moon for a dare. He stumbled into the lounge, letting her drag him onto the sofa as the words 'Doctor Who' appeared on the screen, with a poorly constructed time vortex backdrop.

"It's a television show based on your exploits!" Clara grinned, nudging him. "See, I told you people would start noticing you after that stunt at the wedding. We did crash in in the TARDIS for God's sake."

"Yes, it appears I've gotten too big. I'll be right back…" The Doctor stood to leave when he saw the actor supposed to be playing him and stared at Clara, who had burst out laughing. "He looks nothing like me!" the Doctor yelled. "Look, he's got a buzz cut and everything! And look at that chin, it's far too normal sized. Clara, I must protest!"

"He is wearing a bow tie," Clara responded. "And he has a blue box called a TARDIS and a sonic screwdriver. And he picks up women and shows them all of time and space. Sounds a lot like you to me."

"I don't just pick up any old women," the Doctor protested, looking at Clara. "I'm selective. I only ever take the best. Look at you Clara Oswald. The best of the best. The best humanity has to offer. My Clara, the Impossible Girl. No made up character on any stupid television show could ever compete with that. And oh my goodness me, what on earth is that?"

"That's a Dalek," Clara replied, shovelling popcorn into her mouth. "They're really quiet scary. Wait until you hear their catchphrase. Annihilate!" Clara did her best impression and giggled, before wilting under the Doctor's almighty glare. "Oh lighten up Doctor, it's just a bit of fun. And look at the sexy actress they gave you as a companion. That Jenna Coleman is hot stuff."

"Who is she supposed to be?" the Doctor snorted. "She's nothing special. She's no Clara."

"Nah, she plays someone called Oswin," Clara said, waiting to see his reaction. "Joking, God!" she added hurriedly as his eyes narrowed to slits. "Some of us clearly are getting very wound up over nothing."

The Doctor stormed out at this point and Clara laughed to herself, before returning to the show. It was just getting interesting as the Doctor character turned to see his own TARDIS rematerializing. Someone must have stolen it, Clara thought and leaned in a little closer, excited to see what recurring character would step out. It was the Doctor. And not as in, a different Doctor from the show, but her Doctor. The real Doctor. Clara's husband. She swore loudly, she had been so into the show that she hadn't even heard the TARDIS vanish. The cheeky…

"Oi!" the Doctor shouted and the Doctor character turned to face him brandishing his sonic. The real Doctor snorted and snatched it off him, laughed at it and threw it over his shoulder. "He looks nothing like me!"

And then, there was an announcement from the BBC of technical problems and Clara rolled her eyes. He was such a drama queen.


	11. Mind Control

***This is for whouffletothemax's tumblr prompt, asking me to do a Mind Control. So here we are, I hope you like it! As ever, hit me up with prompts, I'm eager to get them and even more eager to write them! Many thanks to all those who have and all those who review, favourite, follow and read. As ever, set in the Transitions universe so read that first to get all the references! The Potter Doctor.***

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><p>For Clara Oswald, Christmas had come early. She was like a gleeful child as she tapped her foot incessantly, waiting for Jack to confirm what she already knew. Clara let out a little giggle and Jack nodded to her as Clara did a little dance. The Doctor had taken her to the planet Tessaline in the 34th Century and had accidently drank a cocktail containing a mind control drug. At least, that's what he had told her after he'd drank it, looking extremely upset. Clara hadn't believed it at first and had panicked when the Doctor started convulsing but when she'd told him to come back to the TARDIS and take her home, he'd done exactly that. Now, he was stood in front of her, obediently like a puppy, as if waiting for commands.<p>

"Well I be damned," Jack scratched his head. "He was telling the truth. He'll do whatever you ask of him for the next 22 and a half hours. He's completely under your control. Not that he wasn't anyway, but this time he can't put up a fight."

"Doctor," Clara's eyes were wide and full of mischief. "Sit." The Doctor stood. "Doctor, stand." He stood back up. "Ohhhh the possibilities. Jack, any suggestions?"

"Make him give me my fucking vortex manipulator back!" Jack insisted. Clara rolled her eyes.

"We don't need mind control for that, it's in my bedside table. Feel free to go upstairs and get it." Jack saluted and jogged upstairs. Clara doubted she'd see him for a few months. "Doctor, follow!"

The Doctor nodded and followed Clara, staying exactly two steps behind her. It was very odd for Clara, having him so obediently following her every command, but she was determined to make the most of it.

"First up," she smiled wickedly. "You have to apologise to the neighbours for every nasty thing you've ever said about them, their houses, gardens, children, pets and cars. Also, apologise for all the times you've woken them up and anything of theirs you broke, on purpose or by accident. I'm getting really sick of the complaints, especially as most of them find me quite nice."

The Doctor nodded and strolled off, walking in a slightly odd way which Clara found strangely attractive. She did really like the neighbours, but when your husband was a 1300 year old Time Lord, things could get a bit over the top. She went inside to watch some television and not twenty minutes later, the Doctor was stood in between her and the television, smiling obediently.

"Thanks dear," Clara said. "Get me some popcorn and a cuppa. Then, do me a favour and repaint the entire upper floor. The paint's been peeling for months and you keep promising to do it and then never getting around to it. Oh and while you're painting, call my dad and tell him that he and my gran are invited for dinner on Sunday and you personally insist. Thanks! Love you."

She knew she didn't have to tell the oblivious mind controlled Doctor that she loved him, but she did and if he remembered half of this experience, then it would help if she wasn't overly cruel to him. About half an hour later, she heard an almighty crash from above her. She swore. She should have realised that even though he was completely obedient, he was still the clumsiest human-like thing to ever exist. She took the stairs two at a time and saw the Doctor lying on the floor, covered in blue paint and seemingly punch drunk. The house phone was beside him and Clara picked it up gingerly, careful not to touch it to her face.

"Hi Dad, what did the Doctor say? Oh he did, did he? Great, see you on Sunday, love to chat, but my husband had an accident with a paint can he needs to clean up. Bye!" Clara turned to the Doctor, who had stood up and was still standing there, obediently. "Clean up this mess," she instructed. "And shower, clean yourself up and change. Then, come and get me. I have a few more tasks for you to perform…"

Ten hours later and Clara was knackered, but having too much fun to stop. The Doctor had done all the household jobs he'd been lying to her about for months, apologised to everyone he'd managed to offend, taken her to the only three places in the universe he'd ever refused to take her because he was embarrassed by how the people there treated him like a God, waited on her hand and foot, done all her marking for the next week and she'd made him do a fashion show in her best dresses. Clara was still roaring with laughter as the Doctor strutted in a cheeky red number when the doorbell rang and she sent the Doctor to answer it.

"What happened to him?" Jenna asked, eyebrows raised as she entered, staring at the Doctor who stood two feet behind Clara, unmoving.

"Mind control drug," Clara waved it off. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Jenna threw herself down on the sofa. "I was just wondering if you could do me a huge favour. Or rather, if he could do me a huge favour."

"He can't exactly say no," Clara grinned wickedly. "I made him spend half an hour as a coat rack earlier, just for shits and giggles. What is it?"

Normally, Clara knew the Doctor would never agree to this, so letting Jenna use the TARDIS to stalk her husband, to check that he wasn't cheating. Sure enough, they caught him in a hotel with a stripper and Jenna ordered the Doctor to throw him into a supernova. It wasn't until the Doctor picked up a kicking and flailing husband that Clara managed to take control of the situation. They settled for dropping him in Antarctica and going back for him several hours later. Clara was quick to point out that a little frostbite never killed anyone and wiped his memory before dropping him home.

The rest of her night was spent comforting Jenna, leaving Clara just a few short hours to enjoy what was left of her time with the Doctor under her control. Clara had him bake her mum's soufflé, give her the best sex of her entire life and then she asked him to do one more thing for her, just one.

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><p>"Clara Oswin Oswald!"<p>

"Not my middle name Chin."

"What the hell did you think you were playing at?"

"I'm sorry Doctor."

"I mean seriously Clara?!"

"Sorry Doctor."

"I could have been killed."

"I think that that is an overreaction."

"Of embarrassment. I could have died of embarrassment! I'm going to get it removed you know!"

"Don't you dare."

The Doctor glared at her, the tattoo that said: Clara Oswald is the Boss emblazoned on his chest.

"We are never going to Tessaline again."


	12. Gallifreyan Compliment

***This one is about as fluffy as they come and dives into life after Transitions a bit more so I really hope you guys like it. This is for an anonymous prompt on tumblr, asking for Clara to say something endearing in Gallifreyan during an intimate moment. As ever, hit me up with prompts, through reviewing this story or by PM and check out Transitions! Also, if you guys are interested, I've almost finished my University AU Damaged, so check it out for more Whouffle! Thanks again and apologies for the shameless self-promotion. The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Clara couldn't remember anything from any of her former lives. She was glad for that and she could tell the Doctor was too. However, one thing she did learn, fairly early on, is that she could speak Gallifrey. The Doctor said it was a possible seep through, but when he'd started teaching her Gallifreyan, she took to it like a fish to water. The first things she had learnt were her name (which he had kindly engraved on the Moon), how to swear, (the Doctor did that more than he was willing to let on now he knew Clara understood it) and a string of compliments. She couldn't even remember how long it had been since he had taught her. They had started before they were married, so very long ago.<p>

Now, almost fifteen years on, with little Ellie running around the lounge, playing with her toy TARDIS, Clara was lying in her husband's arms. She was lying back, happy that all was right with the world. She'd just turned 40, her husband had just turned 1306 apparently, Ellie was expecting a little brother and her life was perfect. The Doctor made a nudge for the bedroom, winking at Clara. She rolled her eyes. She loved the Doctor, but he could be so impatient. Ellie would be in bed in an hour, but he couldn't even wait that long. She had had to ban him from TARDIS trips during Ellie's crying phase and during the stage of pregnancy where Clara got very bitter at the world. He had been going insane through both pregnancies, desperate to travel the world, so she allowed him breaks. She didn't like the idea of travelling the time vortex with a baby inside her but the Doctor pointed out that as his child, there was a high probability she'd be a time lady anyway. Clara did love the TARDIS, so had given in eventually.

Ellie eventually tuckered herself out and went to bed, the Doctor sweeping Clara up into his arms to follow. She giggled as he carried her, not even slightly struggling over her extra baby weight. He hadn't aged much at all, Clara had noticed, since the day she'd met him, whereas she was so much older. He had told her that he could keep her young forever, but Clara didn't want that. Not really. She was happy to live a normal life, age at the proper rate, as long as she was with him.

It just slipped out in the end. They were both lying back, holding each other closely, after a moment of pure passion. She had had him toying with her hair, playing with it gently and rubbing his hand in concentric circles over her stomach when she said it. The Gallifreyan phrase for what could best be described. On Gallifrey, you didn't say I love you, you said one word. It was a word filled with all the joy in the world. It meant that she loved him but more than that, it meant that both of her hearts were fully devoted to him, until they gave out on her. Of course, she didn't have two hearts, but close enough. She didn't even realise she'd said it, until he was looking at her, like she had just told him she was pregnant all over again. He had cried when Ellie had been born. He had cried on their second wedding day (apparently the first one wasn't good enough for her father and friends, something about the bride and groom falling out of a crashed TARDIS, wearing blackened rags and utterly filthy wasn't acceptable) and he had cried both times she'd told him she was pregnant. Well she hadn't told him either time, in truth, he'd sniffed it. She had told him he was insane, and then the pregnancy tests proved that he was right. She hated it when he was right.

He kissed her forehead. And then he said it back. And she wanted nothing more than to lie in his arms for the rest of her life. So that's what she did.


	13. Interrupted Teaching

***Afternoon all (just). This prompt is the first of three that will be up today, so keep your eyes out. This one is by far the most Transitions-centric as I really wanted to take a chance to delve into the Doctor and Clara's relationship in school. The prompt was an anonymous one on tumblr, asking for the Doctor to interrupt Clara while she's teaching, so the whole thing is set across the Transitions story and how the Doctor keeps on going into Clara's classroom while she's teaching. I really hope you enjoy, keep sending me prompts via PM or review and there'll be two more up today (A Smutty version of the Mind Control prompt and another Gallifreyan one). Have a good Friday! The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Early on in their relationship, he did it all the time. In his first day of working with Clara, he crashed into her classroom at 10am, asking her where the photocopier was. She had smiled shyly, informed him and had had to fend off a barrage of questions from her students, who had just learned her first name. For those first few months, she was constantly having to remind the Doctor that during school hours, she was Miss Oswald. It didn't matter, he was more likely to call her Miss Oswald in the bedroom than in her classroom. Some of his intrusions were cute: "Clara, I just popped in to tell you that I love you."; some of them were pushing their luck: "Clara I just wanted to check if you fancied a trip to the 13th Century over lunchtime?"; and some of them were downright disturbing: "Clara, can I borrow a fire extinguisher, one doesn't seem to be cutting it?" But nevertheless, Clara loved seeming him, as annoying as he was. Some of her pupils had him for physics anyway, some of them didn't, but they all knew who he was.<p>

When they split up, Clara had taken it out on her students. She couldn't help herself, but glance towards the door every so often, as if waiting for the Doctor to knock on it, stick his head and ask her some ridiculous question. But it never came, it never arrived. He never asked her for anything anymore. One of the students mentioned it and he got very viciously snapped at. Clara felt bad, but she had to move on from the Doctor, she had to.

And then, suddenly, they were engaged. It had all happened so fast, but suddenly, Clara was bright and happy and cheerful, marking up all her students work, not giving as many detentions and no longer snapping at all her students. More importantly, the Doctor was appearing in her classroom again.

"Hello Clara," he stuck his head in and a couple of her students smiled and waved. He waved back. "I mean, Miss Oswald," he corrected himself and Clara smiled at this. He'd never corrected himself before. It was sweet. "I was just checking if you happened to have a spare copy of this week's detention timetable lying around, I've lost mine."

"You throw it into a super…bin," Clara finished lamely. "You thought it was stupid."

"So I did," the Doctor nodded appreciatively. "Can I borrow yours?"

"Only if I get it back," Clara smirked and the Doctor nodded politely, snatching it from her outstretched hand and kissing her hand.

"That's a nice ring you have there Miss Oswald," he said cheekily and Clara went crimson. "I hope you got it from a nice man."

"Nah," she replied and he faltered. "It was my mum's actually. My dad gave it to some arsehole to propose to me. Now hurry back to class Doctor."

Normally, she didn't swear in front of the kids but it was her Year 13s, they didn't care anymore than she did. One of the girls in her class was sighing and a couple of the guys were cheering.

"So you two are back on Miss?" James, her favourite student asked. "I'm glad to hear it; you were a miserable git when he wasn't around. When's the wedding?"

"You're lucky I like you James," she replied with a smile. "Otherwise I wouldn't tolerate that git comment. But yes, we're engaged. And we haven't got around to planning the wedding yet. Now, back to your work."

The Doctor's frequent visits to her classroom grew steadily smaller as they grew closer to the wedding, but he still popped his head in every now and then, usually during his free periods. He was getting better at subtlety too, which meant Clara was increasingly managing to avoid fending off questions about what the Doctor meant by a trip to Jupiter. At ones like: "Let's go see Shakespeare tonight!" were easier to blag. In truth, whilst on one level she appreciated the Doctor not bothering her every day, part of her missed the wild and insane enthusiasm of the Doctor she had first met. She had domesticated him slightly and that made him more human. She didn't like it.

After the wedding, everything changed. He grew more and more eccentric every passing week, sometimes bursting in unannounced, covered in dirt, announcing he had just fought a giant worm. Clara strongly suspected he was having to use all his pull in the school board to keep his job.

"Clara!" he announced one day, as she was teaching her Year 7s. They were small, scared things, just started and alarmed by the Doctor's presence even though, thankfully, he looked as normal as the Doctor could look. Beige tweed and red bow tie combo. "Good news! The President called!" Of course he had. "Special invitation to the White House. 6pm tonight. Dress nice! Think, 40s! We're going to meet FDR!"

Excitement about meeting Roosevelt was countermanded by the stares of the Year 7s. Clara glared slightly at the Doctor, unable to stop her smile from appearing on her face. She shooed him off and then smiled at her students, thinking of a good lie. They were still staring.

"That was my husband," Clara said affectionately. She got odd looks. She was only 25 after all, most of her new students were surprised she was married already. They were even more surprised when they met the Doctor. "The White House is a very posh, American style, downtown restaurant," Clara explained quickly. "All the managers have nicknames to match American Presidents, hence FDR, and it's 40s themed this week." Nice work Clara. "I mean, we couldn't meet the real FDR could we? We'd need a time machine." She couldn't help but giggle to herself at that. She loved the lies, she did get a kick out of a successful cover up. And she loved the Doctor's insanity. She hoped that he would burst into her classroom until the day they quit. And until the day they flew away for good.


	14. Mind Control (Smut version)

***Okay so this is quite a short prompt, based on yesterday's Mind Control prompt, only smutty, for whouffletothemax. I'm not great at writing smut, never have been. So this is probably not great and obviously carries a sexual content warning (duh, it's smut). I hope you guys like it and please keep sending in prompts, I've got all the time in the world at the moment. There's another prompt up around 4pm, it's a another one based on Gallifreyan and it's set ages after Transitions, so I'm really hoping that it's a good one. The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Clara had been looking forward to this part. She had only two hours and twenty minutes left until the Doctor's mind control drug wore off and he was back to his normal self. They were stood in their bedroom and he was stood in front of her, willing to do whatever she desired. She knew exactly where to start.<p>

"Doctor," she instructed. "Kiss me. Properly. And get those hands working."

And he did. Oh boy did he. Whether it was the fact that the Doctor beneath the mind control was shining through or perhaps it was just because under her control, he had to give everything his best shot, but the Doctor's kiss was incredible, red hot passion raging through it, his hands mussed in her hair, running through it and tugging and tangling it. She could barely breathe, but pulled away from the kiss long enough to moan: "Now take my top off, don't stop kissing me." She undressed him as he undressed her, pulling her top over her head and dismissing it. She had half expected him to be very static, robotic, only following her exact commands, but even in his trance state, he seemed in tuned to her body. Her implicit orders and gestures were followed as he kissed her passionately, his hands weaving and dancing and her own messed in his hair.

"Bra," Clara breathed and he removed it, swift as you like. His hands rubbed against her breasts and she squealed, letting the kiss continue. Per her instructions, he removed what remained of her clothing as she disposed of his trousers. She guided him onwards and he did whatever she asked, his kisses alive, his hands working magic.

"Okay Doctor," Clara grinned. "Now fuck me."


	15. Gallifreyan Lullaby

***Hello all! This is another anonymous tumblr prompt, that the Doctor and Clara find a baby in a war torn country and Clara sings it a Gallifreyan lullaby. I hope you guys like it! :) Check out my Gallifreyan Compliment one shot if bits of this don't make sense and as ever, it's set in the same universe as Transitions so massive spoilers for that. Please keep sending it prompts and if you're reading Damaged, the next chapter will be up in an hour :) Also, there should be one more prompt up tonight, it's a 12/Clara though. The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Ellie and Craig had been restless. They'd been asking for another sibling. Ellie was ten now, Craig had just turned five and they wanted another brother or sister. Clara didn't have the heart to say no, and so she kept saying maybe. She was 45 now, too old to want or even consider another child. The Doctor had always said that two was the perfect number and that a boy and a girl were the perfect combination. TARDIS trips were guiltily still happening and every time, Clara would race in, as if expecting her children to be gone. She kept telling the Doctor that if both of her children became orphans because of some crazy accident, she would never forgive him and he told her that whatever happened, someone would be there for them. Clara felt like a terrible mother every time she called her father or just jumped aboard the TARDIS, the Doctor promising her that they'd be back in five seconds time. The TARDIS didn't mess them around when it came to their children.<p>

Her two lives all became a bit too real one evening. They had snuck out to the TARDIS while her children were in bed. They had always agreed that they wouldn't tell the children about the TARDIS until they were 16 and capable of understanding and making their own decisions. The Doctor had promised Clara that he wouldn't let them ride on it either, not until they turned 18. She had been sure that he was lying to her and that he would break that promise, but it appeared he had been as good as his word. Her kids knew that their daddy was an alien and that their mummy was a human but they didn't know too much more than that.

In the TARDIS that evening, they flew to a planet called Glorant, a beautiful planet where the stars were brightest in the galaxy. But when they landed, war had come to Glorant. An alien force, cruel and merciless, had invaded. The Doctor told Clara to wait in the TARDIS, but of course she didn't listen. They were there for a week until the Doctor finally blew up the alien invading force, after giving them multiple chances to leave. It bothered Clara that he was willing to stay and abandon their children for the sake of the planet but in truth, it would bother her a hell of a lot more if he had left Glorant to die.

It was on the fourth day, when Clara was clambering through the wreckage of what had been an orphanage. The Doctor was off somewhere, fixing some anti-air weapons, helping a village of starving children, probably a bit of both. She heard the crying before she saw him. She heard the strangled cries of a child. She dug through the debris for over an hour, pulling apart plaster and rocks and fallen columns. She was filthy and tired by the time she reached the baby, which was hidden in a small alcove, protected from the outside world and any falling carnage. She crawled inside and pulled the baby out. It was a boy she realised and took him back to the TARDIS. She fed him and changed him and rocked him on her knee. And then she started singing. At first, she wasn't entirely sure what she was singing, but it made sense in her head so she carried on, the lullaby tumbling from her mouth. She didn't know how long he'd been watching her, but eventually, the Doctor cleared his throat and she turned to him. He was smiling at her.

"You know," he said quietly, as he crossed the room and kissed the top of Clara's head. "My mother sang that to me when I was first born. It was the first lullaby I'd ever had. It's why I taught you it. I wanted it to be the first Gallifreyan that my own children heard."

Of course, it was a Gallifreyan lullaby. Clara tickled the baby's stomach and looked up at the Doctor with big eyes.

"We need to take her home don't we?" Clara said quietly and the Doctor nodded. "I mean, Ellie and Craig would love him, but we're not his kind. He needs to stay here, with his own people. If there's any of them left by the time we're done here."

"Clara," the Doctor whispered and kissed her. "We will save these people, I promise. This child will have a life, a family. But it can't be us."

"I know," Clara replied. "Can we keep him in here though, just until the war is over? I hate the idea of throwing him into another orphanage, to be bombed again."

"Only if you stay with him," the Doctor whispered. "I don't want to lose you either. Stay here, sing to him. And I'll end this war."

So that's exactly what they did.


	16. Clara Needs Her Doctor

***Hello all! Something a bit different today, not Transitions based. It's a 12/Clara prompt sent in by whouffletothemax on tumblr. Basically, Twelve feels awful for what happened on Trenzalore and makes Clara an Eleven replica so that she can be happy. I loved writing this in truth and exploring the relationship between the two post regeneration. I hope you guys like it and please keep on sending me prompts, either by review, or PM or on tumblr. Thanks for reading. The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Everything had changed after Trenzalore. The Doctor knew that but he sensed that Clara knew it even better. Part of him was refusing to acknowledge it, but he embraced it. The man he had been was dead, the Doctor was here to stay. He wanted to not care, that was part of his new personality. But he had to. He was still the Doctor and whatever else his old incarnation had left him, he loved Clara. He was abrasive to her, sure, but that was because he was constantly annoyed. Maybe that was who he was now, annoyed. She was always doing little things that aggravated him. The hair flicking, the nail biting. She was so beautiful but the way she looked at him made his heart sink. Their conversations were pointed and she didn't treat him the way that she used to. The Doctor missed Clara. She rarely ever smiled anymore, treating him with a cold shoulder and flippant comments. He would do anything to bring his Clara back. He was surprised she still travelled with him. Every so often he'd say something or do something and she'd look at him with those big brown eyes and they'd be shimmering with hope. He'd realise in those moments that she was comparing him to himself. Whenever he did something that her Doctor would have done, she would be so happy, only for that happiness to curse their existence. He wanted to see her happy, more than anything.<p>

So that's why he did what he did. While she was at school, he travelled to the future. To find the Flesh. If Clara wanted, needed the Doctor, then she was going to get the Doctor. Her Doctor. Not this old man who looked at her, a woman so much younger, and felt so old and out of his league. Not that that bothered him. He was the Doctor, he was glad to be feeling his age for once. But Clara didn't look at him the way that she looked at HER Doctor. So he did what he had to do. He was going to give Clara her Doctor.

When the TARDIS materialised, Clara did what she always did, she entered the TARDIS with a torn look on her face, half a smile, half regret. She had lost the enthusiasm with which she had bounded in, throwing herself into his arms with a smile as wide as the Gaspan Nebula. She smiled weakly at the Doctor and threw herself onto a seat.

"So," she asked. "Where to today?"

"Clara?" the Doctor cleared his throat and she raised an eyebrow at him, the way she had used to. He felt his heart melt. "I uh, have something for you."

"Okay?" Clara grinned now and he felt himself relax. "Well what is it Chin B- Sorry, never mind." She still called him that now and then, before looking at his chin and realising it was normal size. The Doctor had never been sadder to have a normal size chin. He sensed Clara was angry with it for being normal.

"It's me," the Doctor said and she frowned. "I mean, the Doctor. Your Doctor. I mean you can still travel with me every now and then if you want, but I went and I got this…" The Flesh stepped out from underneath the console and Clara's breath hitched in her throat. "He's me, the old me. In every way. He's not a Time Lord and he can't regenerate, but he's perfect for you. I thought you could keep him and then you could be happy."

Tears were rolling down Clara's cheeks. She walked up to the Flesh and put a hand to his face, examining every curve, every contour. She stared into his eyes and he smiled at her, the way that only the Doctor could smile at Clara. The Doctor felt his heart break. He might not be able to still have Clara, but Clara could still have him. He tried not to cry himself as she stared at the Flesh Doctor. Then she turned to him.

"He's you? He's the Doctor?"

"Yes."

"I don't want him," Clara said and the Doctor frowned. "He's not you. I don't want some replacement, I want the Doctor."

"But he is the Doctor!" the Doctor replied, almost angry. "He's your Doctor. He can give you everything I couldn't. I treated you like shit at Trenzalore Clara, because I didn't know how to deal with losing you. I couldn't lose you. But I'm not that man anymore, I'm not your Doctor. I want you to be happy more than anything and he can give you that."

"I love you," Clara said suddenly and threw herself into the Doctor's arms. He frowned and then she kissed him. "The fact that you're willing to lose me forever just so I can be happy and the fact that you did this for me, proves that you're the same man. You're the Doctor. And I'm sorry that I haven't shown you that I know that. I thought I'd lost you, I didn't realise that you were here the whole time. My Doctor."

"My Clara," he smiled. "Right, better drop this Chin thing home and then cocktails on the Moon. Shall we?"

"We shall."


	17. Nargles

***Hi there guys! Today's prompt is a bit different as it's another Harry Potter crossover! This one's for Tangyman who asked for Nargle hunting with Luna Lovegood, so I hope you guys enjoy it and if you do, check out The Travellers for another Whouffle/Harry Potter crossover. As ever, keep sending in your prompts and I'll get round to them when I can. We've got a drunk giraffe prompt coming tomorrow, so keep your eyes peeled for that :) The Potter Doctor***

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><p>When the Doctor had asked Clara if she fancied Nargle hunting, she hadn't thought for a second that he was serious. When he'd told her that he'd brought in an expert, she thought he had well and truly lost it. And then Luna Lovegood had stepped into Clara's apartment and she was pretty sure that this was no longer funny.<p>

Yet here they were, trudging through the forest, the Doctor and Luna wearing stupid glasses, the sonic whirring as the Doctor sniffed at trees and licked the air. Clara was a few steps back, her stomach growling. She was tired and filthy and they'd been stumbling through the trees all day. She wanted to go to bed, she had year 11s first period in the morning and they were always a nightmare. She needed a long hot bath and some sleep. If he was lucky, the Doctor might even get to join her. Ever since they had gotten engaged, he had become restless. This was just another way of staving off the boredom to him.

"Clara, keep up!" he called back to her and she took a deep breath before jogging to catch up with him. "Get your sonic out, we'll need you to keep scanning in case I miss anything."

Clara found it extremely unlikely that there was anything for the Doctor to miss and even more unlikely that if there was anything that he'd miss it, but she obliged anyway, hoping that placating him would get her home quicker. Her screwdriver whirred as she scanned the trees, thinking Nargles over and over again in her head, as if that made any difference. Then, the sonic responded. Clara couldn't believe it.

"Doctor!" she shouted. "Luna! I think I've found something!"

The Doctor ran over, Luna skipping a few steps behind him absent-mindedly. The Doctor scanned the tree and gave it a lick. He turned to Luna.

"What do you think Luna?" he asked and Luna stepped against the tree, pressing her head to it. Clara thought they were both insane, but the Doctor's reputation for this sort of thing proceeded him and her sonic had definitely picked up something.

"I can definitely hear something," Luna said, her lofty voice almost seeming to be somewhere else. "But I'm not sure if it's Nargles. This is a yew tree and they don't tend to like them very much."

"Yes, I thought that," the Doctor mused. "But if Clara picked up something, then there's something inside the trunk. Is there any way in?" He spotted what he was after. "Look Clara, there's a hole just there. Stick your hand in."

"You stick your hand in, I'm not putting my hand in there!" she replied indignantly and the Doctor showed her his hands with a grin.

"Mine are too big, but you have adorable little arms, so go on, put one in!" the Doctor urged with a beaming smile and Clara gave him a look that indicated she was going to kill him. But Luna's hand was already inside the tree and they both turned to watch her as she smiled at the Doctor.

"I can feel something in here!" she said excitedly. "I wonder if it's the Nargles! Ouch, something bit me!" She retracted her hand and there was a small bite on her finger. Then, she went limp and she fell backwards. Clara yelled and the Doctor caught Luna, calling to her as Luna went pale and began to convulse in the Doctor's arms. He swooped her off her feet, Clara screamed and the Doctor was carrying Luna.

"Clara, scan whatever is in there!" he shouted. "Quickly, but don't put your hand in."

Clara stuck her screwdriver into the tree and soniced. Images flashed into her mind and she gasped. "I don't know what it is, but it's poisonous," she told him and he snatched up her sonic and checked the readings.

"Hydravore, it's Hydravore venom. I don't know how it got here, but when it bites its victims, it transfers all of its eggs into their body and then dies. Luna's being turned into a Hydravore incubator. We need to get her back to the TARDIS, now. Scan and see if there are any more of those things, we might need to intervene."

The Doctor was already pounding through the forest, Clara a few steps behind as she scanned the area to make sure that no more were around. Once they were clear, she was after the Doctor in a heartbeat. She could see him running, a shock of blonde hair wrapped up in his arms. Any other time and Clara might have even been jealous of Luna but not now. And besides she wasn't that petty. There were companions the Doctor had talked about, Rose for example, that would be jealous of anyone who even looked at him. But Clara knew where his priorities lay and she wasn't going to question him on that. Not after everything that had happened over Christmas with River. If he could turn away his dead wife for Clara, he wasn't going to hurt her or betray her for anyone. The blue box was in sight and the Doctor raced in. It took Clara a few more moments to catch up but he had left the doors open for her, a touch that she noted was fairly new. There had been a long time where he'd shut the door slightly at least behind him, but now he kept it propped wide open for her. Clara shut the doors and kissed the console on her way past, as she raced down towards the medical bay, where the Doctor was poured over Luna, sonicing and cursing.

"How is she?" Clara asked nervously, twiddling her thumbs slightly. The Doctor looked at Clara and his face was serious. That was never good news.

"I need to find a way to stabilise her and find a way to extract the venom before it's too late."

"Doctor," Clara a thought. "You said that they wanted to turn her into an incubator right? Doesn't that require a specific temperature? If you could alter her body temperature without killing her…"

"Clara Oswald you are a genius!" the Doctor cried, snogging Clara for a moment and she went bright red. "I knew there was a reason that I offered to marry you. Right, yes, if we can lower Luna's body temperature, keep her internal organs working using the TARDIS systems and if I am very clever, which let's face it, I am, then we can free the Hydravore eggs, killing them dead. They'll pass in a few days in her…well."

Clara grinned as she watched him working, leaning back against the wall. The process of setting up only took a couple of minutes and then the Doctor joined her, interlocking her hand with his.

"And now we wait," he said quietly. "In half an hour, she should wake up. If she does, then she'll be fine. If not, then there's nothing we can do for her."

So they waited, hand in hand, watching as Luna lay, cold as ice and sleeping in the chamber in front of them. Clara kept nervously checking her watch and the Doctor squeezed her hand gently to calm her and Clara was grateful for that. After what seemed like an age, Luna stirred and Clara took a step forward, gasping. Luna's eyes opened and she sat up. Clara let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding and the Doctor raced forward to open the chamber. Luna climbed out, dazed and disorientated and the Doctor caught her, guiding her gently as Clara went over to hug Luna.

"You're okay," Clara reassured her, shooting a look at the Doctor. "You were poisoned but you're fine now. We're going to take you home."

They dropped Luna off in her own universe, which required an immense amount of power (secretly Clara suspected that the Doctor loved to show off, which was why he had used the fact that the universe was still weak after the last time they'd crashed into that universe to go and get Luna in the first place). The TARDIS needed a rest and so did Clara. The Hydravore was one thing, but Clara suspected that come the morning, she'd prefer being a Hydravore incubator to teaching her Year 11s.


	18. Drunk Giraffe

***This one is for whouffletothemax. Can I have everybody out of their seats? It's time to do a drunk giraffe (also because I wanted to write more about the wedding). As ever, huge Transitions spoilers and pretty please with a cherry on top keep sending in prompts! The more I write, the more of the Transitions world I can examine. I also have a super special prompt I'm writing just because, that'll be up in an hour or so :) Many thanks for reading. TPD***

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><p>He always danced at weddings. He had told Clara that, over and over again, and in truth, she had been excited for it. She couldn't wait to see the Doctor dancing, leading her in a waltz across the dance floor in the ruined remains of her dress. They hadn't changed since the crash landing and she ran a hand through her singed hair, grinning at her now husband, before accepting a tissue to wipe up her streaked makeup. The Doctor was beaming and as the music started, he reached out to take her hand. Clara took it and smiled at him. Then he started dancing and Clara burst into laughter. She fell to her knees, choking with laughter. The Doctor was stood hunched, his hands above his head in a bizarre pose. She didn't know what to make of it as she collapsed to the floor, laughter overtaking every fibre of her being. She was crying.<p>

"Clara!" the Doctor sulked. "You're not dancing. This is our wedding! We have to dance together. So get up off the floor and do the Drunk Giraffe!"

"Do…the…what?" Clara choked, unable to stop laughing. The band was still playing but only just and the Doctor and Clara were getting all manner of strange looks. The entire atmosphere of the wedding had dissipated when the TARDIS had crashed and most people were still dazed and confused by what they had seen. Some were disgusted. Clara would have thought that the 1000 year age gap would have bothered more of them but apparently not.

"The Drunk Giraffe!" the Doctor reiterated. "Come on you know you can do it. Hands in the air like you just don't care. Don't be cool, you have to be the Drunk Giraffe!"

Clara held her hands above her head and acted like she was snorkelling. The Doctor looked thoroughly exasperated. He stepped and took Clara's arms, guiding her as best he could. He demonstrated again and then stepped back to Clara. They held their hands above their heads and wiggled in tandem. Clara laughed. She found herself falling in love with him all over again. It wasn't long before Clara had the Drunk Giraffe nailed and they weaved through the dance floor, Drunk Giraffing side-by-side. It was the beginning of the most magical night of Clara's life.


	19. Trust

***Hey all! This is a prompt that I really wanted to do! It's Clara meets the Ponds! Or specifically Amy. I loved the idea that the Doctor trusts Clara enough to go and pass on his last words to them, even if he doesn't trust himself enough. This picks up specifically on the idea from Chapter 3 of Transitions where Clara thinks she'll meet the Ponds. I hope you enjoy it and as ever, keep sending in prompts! TPD***

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><p><em>"I said I didn't trust myself," the Doctor said evenly. "I didn't say I don't trust you. You can do this Clara, look at me. I believe in you."<em>

The words were still echoing in Clara's mind. She took a deep breath. The Doctor knew she was here, it had been his idea. He could never face doing this himself, could never dream of it. Clara had asked for the address, told him that she wanted to make sure they knew the truth and the Doctor bit his lip and muttered something about foreknowledge before smiling and writing it down. He was waiting back at the house, twiddling his thumbs. Clara knew she should be worried when he did that and that she'd be lucky to have a house to go back to. But this was important to him. And in truth, it was important for her too She needed to see them, to meet them, just once. She had met Martha and Mickey and Jack but this was different. For so many reasons. They had travelled with him for so long, been his whole life. They were the Ponds. Timelines, the Doctor had muttered angrily, meant that they were still around, just waiting for the Doctor to pitch up. Clara took a deep breath and knocked on the front door. The woman who opened the door was tall, much taller than Clara and she had eyes as fierce as her fiery red hair. She raised an eyebrow at the diminutive girl with the choppy brown hair and red skirt on her doorstep.

"Hello," she said, not snapping but not kind either. "Can I help you?"

Clara didn't know what to say. She had had a great speech planned out in her head but it all slipped from memory and she found herself gawping slightly.

"Amy?" she asked, trying to regain her composure. "Amy Pond?"

"Amelia Williams technically," Amy corrected her, her eyebrow still raised. "Who are you?"

"I'm Clara," Clara stammered slightly. "Clara Oswald."

"Great," Amy rolled her eyes. "How can I help you? If this is about the gutter, we're getting it fixed, I promise."

"No, it's not like that," Clara said quickly. "It's just. He sent me."

"He who?" Amy said agitatedly. "It's not the Landlord is it? I swear to God I thought we didn't have one!"

"You don't!" Clara added quickly. "I mean," she was twisting her ring nervously, the ring that signified she was engaged to the Doctor. She ought to leave that part out. "HE sent me."

Clara pulled out her TARDIS key which she had around her neck on a gold chain. Amy gasped, staring at it. Clara took a deep breath and Amy showed her inside. The house was wonderful Clara realised and with a pang reminded herself that the Doctor had secured it for them. Amy took her through to the kitchen and offered her a coffee. Clara asked for a tea and sat awkwardly.

"This is…" Amy said quietly.

"You're telling me!" Clara said nervously. "First thing's first, you can't tell him you ever met me. Timelines and all that nonsense. He'd come himself but he doesn't trust himself."

"So you're from his future yeah?" Amy asked. "How far into his future?"

"Yeah," Clara replied, taking the mug of tea Amy offered her. "Thanks. Far enough," Clara replied vaguely. "He doesn't trust himself, foreknowledge is dangerous. I can't tell you anything, except that when you stop travelling with him…" Clara took a deep breath. "He misses you all the time. When I first met him, he was a shadow of his former self. He's a lot better now, but it took him a very long time to get over you two. He's happy," she added quickly. "He was desperate for you two to know how happy he was, eventually. He wanted you to know that you're still in his hearts every day but he's finally moved on."

She was still playing with the ring and Amy had noticed. She smiled at looked at Clara. "Does he know?" she asked kindly and Clara went red.

"Which one?" she asked with a nervous chuckle.

"Not telling Rory about the Doctor almost destroyed our relationship," Amy informed her. "And not telling the Doctor about Rory did the same. You should tell them."

"They know," Clara replied with a smile. It helped that they were one in the same person. "Oh they know."

"And do they like each other?" Amy asked with a laugh.

"Sometimes," Clara answered honestly. "Sometimes I think they want to rip each other apart. But the Doctor…my Doctor…" Clara was smiling now with a look in her eyes and she couldn't stop herself. "He's magical."

"Careful," Amy warned. "If you get too wrapped up in the Doctor, you can lose the real world forever. Whatever else the Doctor may be, he can never settle down. He can never stay in this real world. He stay round ours once, four days killed him. He couldn't hack it."

Clara felt a surge of pride at this and smiled so wide she was sure that Amy would clock on. Instead, Amy said something that pushed Clara's happiness off of a cliff.

"Has he introduced River?"

"Yes," Clara said, unable to keep the edge out of her voice and Amy raised an eyebrow. "I just mean, I've met River."

"You don't like her. Clara, I don't mean to intrude," Amy sounded worried. "But I think you need to re-examine your relationship with the Doctor. If you love with him, your fiancé will never forgive you. The Doctor doesn't fall in love with us, he never does. We just have to muddle through. I was lucky, Rory was more perfect for me than the Doctor ever could be. I just hope your fiancé is too."

"He is," Clara gushed, able to be honest with her now. "He's the most perfect man I've ever met in my entire life. He teaches with me at a school across London. We live together and he's the sweetest thing ever. Bit odd, I thought my dad was going to kill him when I first met him and there's a bit of an age difference, but it all is so perfect. We travel with the Doctor after hours and it's so perfect." The Doctor was perfect. And he had trusted her not to screw this up with too much foreknowledge. So Clara couldn't slip. She had to lie. "His name's Darren. He's tall, blonde, muscular. He teaches Geography of all things. I mean he's no physicist but we get by. Listen, I really just came by because I know the Doctor wants more than anything to see you again and he can't. So I thought I'd pass on the message. He loves you both very much, he wants you back more than anything and he's happy."

"Thank you Clara," Amy smiled. "I won't say a word to him."

When Rory got home that evening, Amy turned to him with a wistful smile.

"Rory," she said as he entered. "I think I met the Doctor's fiancée."


	20. Sewer

***Hello all, bit of a grim one this one. I referenced the Doctor and Clara crawling through a sewer in 1700s England covered in well you get the point. Little bit of a call back to Rowan Atkinson's comic relief turn in Doctor Who: Curse of the Fatal Death here if any of you have watched it. If you haven't watch it, it's written by the Moff and utterly hilarious. Obviously, this isn't going to be pretty so feel free to skip it, there should be a prompt up soon that's a bit less grim. As ever, send in your prompts! I love them so much, you guys have the most fantastic ideas and I love writing them! TPD***

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><p>Clara was fuming. To say that she was fuming would be an understatement. She was going to kill him. Once she was safely back inside the TARDIS and had burned her clothes and washed her skin and hair in acid, she was going to murder the Doctor. Before the wedding as well, what a shame. He had apologised about fifty times but Clara was never going to forgive him for this as they crawled, on their hands and knees through the muck.<p>

London, he had promised her. London in 1715 and they were going to meet the great Isaac Newton. Clara wasn't overly excited but she loved going back in time and hey, if it made her fiancé happy, she was happy. She was most definitely going to call off her wedding. There was no way in hell she was going to marry him after this. She'd probably still smell of excrement at the wedding. Hell, if they went the long way round and waited all 300 years until the wedding she'd probably still smell of shit. Clara shoved the Doctor lightly and he slipped, splashing into the filth and spraying Clara with liquid faeces. She let out a foul string of curses and crawled on. How they had ended up here was anyone's guess. One minute, they had been running, the next, he'd pulled her down a side street and they'd fallen into this hell hole. It couldn't be much further until they spooled out into the Thames, could it?

"Not long now Clara," the Doctor said from behind her. "We'll be out of the fudge in now time." She shot him a glare so angry she thought she might melt his face off. "Just think of it as chocolate Clara, it'll wash off."

"You are so dead!" Clara growled and then heard a rumbling behind her. "Doctor, what was that?"

"Oh that'll just be the cleaning mechanism for the pipe," the Doctor replied cheerfully. "They flush all of the waste down and force it through all at once."

Clara let off a string of curses as disgusting as what they were crawling in as they were smashed from behind by a wall of foul water and they were tumbling through the air, crash landing in the Thames. Clara stayed underwater for a few seconds and broke the air, breathing in the foul air of the city. Compared to the pipe, it was practically the smell of Heaven. She was brown from head to toe, the Thames water barely touching the stuff and she smelled like exactly what she'd just been in. The Doctor was grinning as he backstroked to shore, Clara a few strokes behind him doing the butterfly. She punched him in the face when they climbed to shore and stumbled into the conveniently parked TARDIS, which threw a fit at them when they entered.

"Yes, I'm sorry dear!" the Doctor grumbled. "I didn't mean to make such a mess. The quicker you show Clara and I to the bathroom, the better it'll be for both of us."

The TARDIS seemed only too happy to help. It took Clara six showers before she felt clean again and she smelled awful until shower number 10. She must've gotten through at least five bottles of shampoo before her hair was its usual shining self and she took a deep sigh of relief as she strolled back into the console room where her fiancé was playing around with the controls.

"What took you so long?" he snapped.

"This was entirely his fault," Clara whispered to the TARDIS console. "Please, punish him for it…"

The TARDIS made a wheezing noise and lurched. They were seemingly rolling and Clara and the Doctor were hanging on for dear life until they stopped. The Doctor was grumbling and patting the TARDIS affectionately, glaring at Clara.

"Did you do something?" he accused.

"No?" Clara shrugged her shoulders.

The Doctor grumbled and then the TARDIS doors flung open. The Doctor frowned and Clara followed him. She glanced down and below them was that same sewer that they'd just climbed out of. Giggling, she gave the Doctor an almighty shove and he lurched out of the TARDIS, toppling back into the sewer, shouting Clara's name as he did so.

"What do you think?" Clara asked. "Is twenty years too harsh?"

The TARDIS bleeped at her.

"No, I didn't think so either."


	21. Shadow Theatre

***So this prompt is Shadow Theatre and it's for xandrota. My first thoughts on this all went into the same direction and I ran with it. I really hope you guys enjoy this prompt and please keep sending them in because I love your ideas and I love writing them. TPD***

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><p><em>"Almost every species in the Universe has an irrational fear of the dark. But they're wrong. Because it's not irrational. It's Vashta Nerada." The Tenth Doctor – Silence in the Library <em>

Shadow theatre. An underappreciated art form, according to the Doctor. Clara was somewhat sceptical, but when they were sat in the giant theatre, and all of the lights went down, except for one giant spotlight, which focused on the main stage, Clara had to admit that it was pretty cool. The troupe that were doing the actions below them were spectacular and they formed images that completely blew Clara's mind. She gasped and awed and grabbed the Doctor excitedly as he gave her his best know-it-all smirk. It was just before the interval when things went wrong. Horrifically wrong. The scream was so bloodcurdling that it filled the entire theatre and people were screaming alongside it. The Doctor was on his feet and Clara was right behind him. The lights weren't coming on and people were clamouring in their panic to get out. They were streaming the other way to the crowd, desperate to get to the front of the theatre.

When they reached the cast, the curtain had risen and Clara bit back the urge to scream as well. One of them was a skeleton, the flesh had been stripped from his bones. The Doctor went pale as the troupe surrounded him. They were kneeling by him and the Doctor soniced him, cursing loudly and everyone stared at him, including Clara who was wishing that she'd packed her own sonic but hadn't been able to find a pocket in her dress.

"Who are you?" whispered one of the troupe. "What happened to him?"

"He's been eaten, all the flesh stripped from his bones," the Doctor replied breathless.

"Thanks for that Captain Obvious," Clara rolled her eyes. "But what did it? Is it still around?"

"Vashta Nerada," the Doctor breathed. Everyone raised an eyebrow at him. "They live in the dark, well they are the dark. Impersonate the dark, infiltrate the shadows. They lurk in the shadows, they could be any shadow and then they feast. They're normally in small clusters, they must not have been able to resist the irony of a shadow theatre."

"Irony?" Clara quizzed. "Shadows have a concept of irony? So what do we do?"

"I don't know," the Doctor snapped back. "Apparently they do. Turn on the lights. All of them."

"We can't," one of the troupe said, who had been backstage, running back now. "None of them are working properly. What do we do?"

"Doctor, what do we do?" Clara added. He'd been deep in thought and now he was walking around the troupe, examining their shadows with his sonic.

"Look for someone with two shadows," he replied. "They're the next one infected."

Clara looked frantically at the troupe's shadows. When she looked up, they were all staring at Clara except the Doctor, who was still focusing on the shadows. Clara felt her stomach drop and she glanced downwards at her own shadow. There were two of them now. She let out a strangled cry. The Doctor picked up on it and glanced up at her. All the blood drained from his face. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. He rushed over to her, kissing her forehead quickly before scanning the shadows and then standing back for a moment. He was deep in thought and then he yelled. It was a horrible, pained sound and Clara didn't know what to do. He screamed and Clara wanted to cry. She was going to die.

"Now you listen here," the Doctor yelled and Clara realised that he was yelling at the shadows. "You can hear me I know you can. I have fought your kind before. I know how you operate. So I'm going to give you a chance. A chance to run. One chance. Because if you so much as touch one hair on my wife's head, I swear on my lives that I will burn you. Burn you so much that you'll be screaming for darkness. And I won't give it to you. Clara Oswald will not be harmed. Now scuttle off back to the shadows."

Nothing happened. Clara was sobbing now, as the Doctor let out an inhuman roar and punched the studio floor. How did you stop darkness? With light. But the lights weren't working. Unless…

"Doctor," Clara breathed. "The lights. They're broken."

"I'm aware of that," he snapped.

"So fix them," Clara breathed. The Doctor hit himself in the forehead. "You can be so stupid when you're angry," Clara laughed and the Doctor grinned. "I mean really, how long was it going to take you to figure it out. I didn't have all day."

The Doctor raised his screwdriver into the air.

"Last chance!" he roared. The shadows didn't move and he soniced.

Clara was blinded. She staggered backwards as every light in the theatre was shone in her face and she fell to the floor, letting out a cry of anguish. She sat up and tried to open her eyes. The Doctor was there, surrounded by white light, almost angelic. He scooped her up into his arms, kissing her forehead as he did so.

"Clara," he whispered. "My Clara. You're alright."

And she always would be. As long as she had him.


	22. Mrs Clever

***Hey guys, this is the last one for now unless people hit me up with more. This is Clara being taken over by Cybermites and becoming Mrs Clever. I hope you like it but I'm not sure it's my best work. TPD***

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><p>Well this was all a bit of a mess really, the Doctor thought as he wriggled around, desperate to try and undo the bonds that held his wrists together. It did not help in the slightest that the person who had tied him up was also the person who knew him best in the world. Clara Oswald had removed his sonic, tied him to a chair and left him to die. She was the new Cyber Planner or as she liked to call herself, Mrs Clever. Apparently seeing as she was married to the Doctor and he had been Mr Clever, it was some sort of funny joke. He didn't get it. He wriggled about a bit more. Nope. Not doing anything.<p>

He had been aiming to take Clara on a beautiful date for their third anniversary. And possibly their last unless he did something quickly. After three years of marriage, there were very few places left in the universe that the Doctor could use to top his previous efforts. Certainly, he thought, on reflection, very few would do worse than the middle of a Cybership. The good news was, the Cybermites hadn't converted him this time, because they'd apparently given up trying that tactic. However, as Clara had both intimate knowledge of the Doctor and a way above average intelligence, they had taken her instead. It had taken longer than they'd expected, apparently Clara was more emotional than they'd been expecting. The Doctor had felt a gush of pride but they'd just hit her with more Cybermites. And now she was walking around, talking like Clara but not like Clara with Cyber parts splattered onto her face and the mind of the Cybermen inside her. They'd tied him up and left him in a room where they vented the engines. Mrs Clever had told him, through a happy coincidence, that the engines were due for a venting. The Doctor had thought that that might be the case. He struggled and struggled and then the door opened and Clara ran in, grinning at him, decyberfied. He beamed at her as she stood, staring at him with a warm but teasing smile on her face.

"What took you so long!" the Doctor hissed.

"Well I had to let them think that I was really Mrs Clever before I dismantled all of their systems and left their ship to self-destruct," Clara pointed out reasonably. "Exactly why didn't the conversion process work properly again?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I had an app for it. Can you untie me now please?"

"Oh I dunno," Clara winked wickedly. "I was thinking of all the naughty things I could do to you in this position, Mr Oswald."

"Stop calling me that!" the Doctor groaned. "Untie me now pretty please."

"Are you going to take me to a proper holiday destination?" Clara asked teasingly. "After all, this is our third anniversary."

"I'm well aware," the Doctor grumbled. "I meant to take you line dancing on the intergalactic colony of Mapfoot. But apparently it's Cyber territory now."

"Got the Cyber bit. Bless you though."

Clara untied him with a laugh, throwing him his sonic as they ran back to the TARDIS. They dematerialised as the Cybership exploded behind them and the Doctor laughed as he kissed Clara passionately.

"You know, Mrs Clever," he smirked as she kissed him back. "There are one or two things that Cybermen can't do that we most certainly can, right here in the console room."

"Well Mr Clever," she replied, pulling off her blouse. "Let's get to it then."


	23. Brainwashed Clara

***Hello Stonehenge! This one is for whouffletothemax and features a brainwashed Clara. I like the darker elements to this prompt and stick around until the end. Please keep sending them in guys, I love to hear your ideas and I love writing them even more! Also, keep your eyes out for Healing, the sequel to my AU (yes I know my self-promotion has no shame but there you go) and as ever, Transitions spoilers. TPD***

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><p>Clara was waiting for her fiancé to get home. He'd just nipped out in his TARDIS to pick up some takeaway from the Year So-Far-In-The-Future-That-She-Had-Stopped-Paying-Attention. He'd been gone a whole two minutes, it was very distressing. There was a knock on her front door. Clara frowned. She wasn't expecting company and the Doctor had a key. Of course he had a key, it was his house. Unless he'd managed to lose it again, that would explain why he was taking so long to come back into the house. He often lost it and Clara would have to lend him her set to make yet another copy out of it. In the end, they had about fifty sets of keys cut and put them in the cupboard under the sink.<p>

Clara opened the front door but didn't recognise the woman stood on the front door step. She was wearing an eye patch and had a smile that Clara could only describe as evil. Clara frowned and went to shut the door but the woman's hand clenched around Clara's arm. Clara let out a small squeal and tried to pull away and then a strange gas was flushed in her face and Clara felt woozy. She managed to yank away from the woman but her head was fuzzy and she didn't make it two steps before passing out.

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><p>The Doctor sniffed the pizza once more to check that it was suitable for human consumption and then kicked open the doors to the TARDIS. He whistled cheerfully as he peered in the window. Oh bugger, Clara was going to kill him. He had been gone for almost an hour. She'd be starving. She might wonder if he was going to come back at all. The Doctor strode in the back door, calling Clara's name as he set the pizza down on the kitchen table. He smelled the pizza once more and took a slice. It was delicious. At this point, Clara entered the kitchen, smiling cheerily. It took him far longer than it should have done to realise something was wrong. He was getting slow in his old age but it took him almost two seconds to realise that Clara wasn't Clara. So he wasn't even remotely surprised when she went into the kitchen and picked up the sharpest knife there, hurling it at the back of his head. The Doctor ducked and then caught the flying knife by the handle, swirling to face his fiancée.<p>

"Clara," he urged. "It's me. It's the Doctor. Whatever's going on in your head, ignore it." She dived for another knife. The Doctor cursed and pulled out his sonic, brandishing it in her direction. She hurled another knife his way and he dodged, sonicing to try and find the source of the control. She had her own sonic out however and she was blocking his signal. The Doctor stepped forwards towards her and Clara punched him in the face. He staggered back, dodging as she swung a kick at him. "Clara Oswald I swear to God!" he threatened but she came at him again. The Doctor scrambled to stop her finding a weapon and grabbed her, pulling her into a hold. Clara gasped and the Doctor pulled the sonic off of her, swinging her round and scanning her as he did so.

The signal was external all right, and he might be able to block it, but he couldn't isolate the signal's frequency without access to the remote transmitter that was implanted in Clara. It must have gone in through the ear, there were no scars on her beautiful skin at all. She stamped on his foot and wriggled out of his grasp, seizing a chair and throwing it. It was a lame attempt, but the next one wasn't. As soon as the Doctor dodged the chair, she was on him, small but strong and suddenly they were crashing through the glass of the back doors, crashing into the garden, Clara on top of him and growling like an animal. Her hands went to his neck. The Doctor had to fry the systems of whatever was inside her head. But he was starting to lose consciousness.

"Tell Madam Kovarian that if I have to keep marrying the people she sends to kill me, I'm going to have to get space for more wedding rings!" the Doctor snarled. "I'm so sorry Clara."

And then he pressed one sonic to each ear and blasted. Clara screamed and fell off of him, pressing her hands to her head and screeching in pain. It broke the Doctor's heart. After a few moments, she passed out, and a small, black object fell out of her ear. The Doctor picked Clara up and put her into bed. She would be fine, but she'd have the biggest headache known to man when she woke up. He breathed a sigh of relief. But the Silence knew where he lived. He'd have to rectify that…

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><p>Systems all around Madam Kovarian was crashing and burning. She let out a yell and ran towards her own private craft. She could almost see the entrance, she was so close. She rounded the final corner and a blue box stood in her way.<p>

"Going somewhere Madam?" the Doctor asked, almost amused. "This ship is going to explode in twenty seconds and you're going to die with it. I've been fairly lax in hunting you down, ever since Lake Silencio. But this time, Silence will Fall. Your Silence. It's falling. Goodbye Kovarian, I hope you burn in hell. And just know, this is for Clara. If I see one Silent within a hundred miles of Clara Oswald, I'll be back, and next time I'll murder every person on this ship, personally."

And then the door of the box shut and Kovarian's world turned to fire.


	24. The Doctor Forgets Clara

***This beauty is also for whouffletothemax and it's what happens when the Doctor has his brain meddled with so that he completely forgets Clara Oswald. I hope you guys like it and please review or PM me more suggestions for great prompts, they're amazing to write and read your ideas. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had now been out cold for over twenty four hours. Clara was really worried. They had just been visiting some planet she had forgotten the name of on the belt of somewhere and she had left his side for a moment before he was gone. It had taken almost an hour to find the local residents torturing him. Clara had fought them off, rescued the Doctor and dragged him back into the TARDIS, with half of the city on her back. She liked to think that he'd be proud of her, if he was conscious. She let another tear roll down her cheek and it splashed the Doctor. She wiped it off of his chin and turned as she burst into a fresh rack of sobs. She didn't know what the hell was wrong with him. She'd soniced him but she wasn't thinking straight enough for the telepathic circuits to make any sense. Clara screamed in anguish and he woke up at that, looking around and letting out a yelp.<p>

"Ah good," he noted. "Arms, legs, head, bow tie. Still cool. Good. Right, I need to find Amy. He leapt out of bed, barely glancing at Clara as he looked around, fumbling in the cupboards and the bed sheets. Clara held her breath, gazing at him in wonder, emotion overwhelming her. He finally spotted her and held out a hand, a fresh smile on his face. She was about to throw herself into his arms, when his next words stopped her dead. "Hello, nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor. Where am I? When am I?"

"It's March 12th," Clara said, barely breathing. "Just like it was when we left. You're at home. In our bedroom. I'm…" She was crying again now, but silently. "I'm Clara. Your Clara."

"My Clara?" he asked, musing this over. "I don't think I have a Clara, you must have me mistaken with someone else. See, I'm not from around here. If you could just help me find my box, I'll be on my way. Have you seen it? Big blue box thing? Also, where's my stuff? I should have…"

"TARDIS key and screwdriver?" Clara asked brusquely. She wasn't having this. "You're not going anywhere until you explain. This is very funny Doctor, colour me amused. You got me Mr Oswald. Haha. Now shut up and kiss me."

"Mr Oswald?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I'm the Doctor. Just the Doctor. Now give me my screwdriver." He snatched her screwdriver off her and tested it. It gave him an electric shock and he yelped, running over to Clara and pinning her against a wall. He wasn't touching her but she could feel his breath on her. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What did you do to me? What did you do to my screwdriver?"

Clara slapped him. He staggered back and she took back her screwdriver. "First off," she snapped. "That's my screwdriver! This is yours," she threw him his. "Second of all, I didn't do anything to you, I dragged you off that bloody planet when the locals started torturing you. I didn't know what was going to happen to you. I was terrified. And thirdly and this really is the important point Doctor, I'm Clara Oswald. I'm your wife. And don't you go telling me there's some mistake, or that you married me by mistake or that I'm thinking of someone else. You're the Doctor, my Doctor. You're 1200 years old from the planet Gallifrey, that you thought you destroyed in the Time War but didn't because I stopped you. You have two hearts, you think you have twenty seven brains but you don't and you travel in time and space in a Snogbox. Which we really should be taking you to. The TARDIS will know what happened to you to make you forget me."

The Doctor was stunned by this speech, but it didn't seem to jog his memory. He eyed Clara suspiciously as they walked downstairs.

"So you're my wife?" he tried again. "Like an actual human wife?"

"Yep," she replied. "We had to get married twice, we ended up crash-landing with our wedding clothes blown to bits the first time round. You took me to Midnight for our honeymoon. And then you remembered that there was a reason nobody went there and we detoured through Paris in the year 4321, right before it got nuked by the New Americans. And I'm pregnant with your child."

He had told her that. He had told her that she was pregnant, he'd known before she had. This seemed to stop him in his tracks and he looked at her oddly before striding out the back door towards the TARDIS.

"I must love you very much," he muttered.

"You do!" Clara informed him, as she opened the TARDIS doors with her key. "Alright Grumpy, something happened to the Doctor, brain scan needed. We need to fix his memories."

The process took far longer than Clara was comfortable with. The Doctor sulked the entire time, complaining to the TARDIS and being very rude to Clara, distrustful of her as he was. By the time his brain was in the process of being fixed, she was thoroughly irritable and stormed out of the TARDIS.

He came for her about half an hour later. It was a light touch on the shoulder and then when she turned, a real hug. A Doctor hug. A kiss on the forehead and he looked at her with his big, sad eyes. "Clara," he said her name like it was all there was in the world. "My Clara. Thank you for saving me."


	25. Smoleman

***Hello everyone! Time for another prompt and there are 8 more coming your way over the weekend, you lucky ducks! This one is for whouffletothemax, my awesome prompt advisor and it's a Smoleman prompt. Now I'm uncomfortable writing Smoleman because I think shipping real people is weird unless they're actually together, so I cheated and wrote a Whouffle prompt set in the Transitions verse where they role play Smoleman. So yeah, smut warning and as ever Transitions spoilers and please keep sending in your prompts, either by PM or review, I'll get round to them when I can! Many thanks, The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Clara rolled over in bed, so that she was lying on top of the Doctor. He grinned up at her, the smile wide on his face. Clara teased him, her hair trickling down onto him, her bare breasts hovering over him. He leaned in to kiss her and she responded in kind. She was pondering something and she had been for a while. They were newlyweds and Clara was interested in trying new things in the bedroom. She was nibbling on her lip as they pulled out of the kiss and the Doctor eyed her strangely, as if trying to work out her thought process.<p>

"What is it?" he asked, trying to squirm out from under her. She wasn't having any of it.

"It's just," Clara took a deep breath. "You remember when we went to that alternate universe? The one where we were played by Matt Smith and Jenna-Louise Coleman?"

"Yes," the Doctor mused, smiling patronisingly. "Of course I do. What of it?"

"Well, do you not think it's weird that they weren't together?" Clara burst out and the Doctor laughed. "Sorry, I mean. Can we do a role play?"

"A role play?" he raised an eyebrow. "Clara, they're not from our world. They aren't us. They are real people with real lives and it's not fair of us to judge them and tell them who to be with. I imagine they get enough of that in their world, with those people on Twitter and Facebook who write those weird things."

"I just meant!" Clara gasped. "Can I pretend to be Jenna, coming over from a break up with my boyfriend and you can pretend to be Matt and comfort me?"

The Doctor seemed very apprehensive about this idea and managed to stammer several problems with it before Clara let out a huge giggle and jumped out of bed, throwing on a set of clothes. When the Doctor quizzed her, she shot him a look that said: 'Well I can't well knock on your door naked can I?' He felt nerves squirt through him and it wasn't until Clara was outside and knocking on his door about ten minutes later, once he was also dressed, that he felt excited. He went to open the door and Clara threw herself into his arms, sobbing.

"Cl-Jenna?" he asked, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the whole thing. "What's wrong?"

"I've been dumped Matt!" Clara wept, letting her northern accent lilt more into the conversation and he immediately found that it turned him on more. "My boyfriend dumped me!"

She was really getting into this, the Doctor realised, as her sobs were genuine, tears streaming down her face as she buried her face in his jacket. He guided her inside, really unsure about what he should be doing here. He decided just to act as he would if this was Amy, crying over Rory. No, that would be weird. Act as if it was Clara, crying over some stupid boy she had dated before they fell in love. Or rather before she fell in love with him, for he supposed he had always been in love with her in his own stupid way.

"Jenna," he cooed softly, guiding her over to the sofa. "Tea will solve everything. I'll make you tea!" He rushed into the kitchen, mentally kicking himself as he quickly prepared two mugs. What the hell was he playing at? He rushed back to Clara, whose tear streaked face pushed itself into a watery smile when he sat beside her. "I'm sorry about him!" the Doctor tried and she shot him a look that said: 'Are you even trying?'

"Matt," Clara said softly and the Doctor turned to look at her. "Why would he do this to me? What's so wrong with me that blokes think I'm not worth it?"

"I don't know!" the Doctor replied honestly, letting his emotions take over. "I've always failed to understand the stupidity of hu-men!" he corrected himself quickly, earning himself a grin and an elbow to the ribs from Clara. "I've always thought you were beautiful," he admitted. "And amazing. And so totally worth it, so I genuinely can't understand why any bloke would dump you. If you were my girlfriend," he tried not to snort at the absurdity of it all. "I'd never ever dump you, because you are absolutely perfect."

"You really think that?" Clara asked him with big doe eyes. The Doctor had to admit, she was a fantastic actress. He almost believed her surprise, but there was just a hint in her eyes of something more than that. Something that betrayed Clara's real feelings towards him and the fact that she already knew that. He told her almost every day. "Oh Matt!"

Clara swooned dramatically, before throwing herself on him, snogging him. The Doctor responded in kind, kissing Clara in kind and before he knew it, she was topless and his shirt was being thrown to the wayside. Their kiss deepened and Clara let out a heavy breath as his lips moved to her neck. The role play aspect was almost gone, as it became two souls intertwining, their kisses loving and their touches soft yet hard at the same time. As he entered her, Clara felt herself gasp and when she exploded, she couldn't bring herself to say Matt, instead screaming out the Doctor's name. He followed suit and then they collapsed on the sofa. They looked at each other and laughed.

"That was the weirdest thing I've ever done," the Doctor admitted. "And I do weird for a living. I mean at one point there were five of me in a room together. How weird is that?"

"I know what you mean," Clara breathed.

"How did you get into character so effectively?" the Doctor asked and Clara pursed her lips. She didn't say anything and the Doctor nudged her ribs. "Clara?"

"It doesn't matter," she replied breezily. He shot her a fierce look and she took a deep breath. "I just remembered how I felt when I thought you'd ditched me for River," she admitted, biting her lip. "But it's all better now, so you don't have to feel guilty about it."

"Oh Clara," the Doctor sighed, kissing her forehead lightly. "I'll never stop feeling guilty."


	26. Multiple Claras

***Prompt No.2 of 9. Here we go. This one is for an anonymous sender on Tumblr, who I hope finds this and likes it. This is a very smutty prompt, staring Multiple Clara Oswalds. Because sent the idea of more than one Clara, was there ever going to be any other way of doing it? I know I've gone with two smut prompts in a row but most of them will end up not being smutty, I promise. One more smutty and the rest will be more fluffy than anything else. Please keep sending them in! Enjoy! The Potter Doctor***

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><p>The TARDIS creaked and groaned in its usual manner, as if the return journey home was so exhausting that she had to kick up a fuss. The Doctor slapped her playfully and Clara kissed the console. She was becoming more and more like the Doctor every day, she realised and found the thought nauseating and yet exhilarating. She skipped around the console room, pecking the Doctor's cheek. They landed and she let out a squeal as it was a bumpy one. The Doctor caught her and kissed her forehead. She wished he wouldn't catch her. Her awkward landing on the TARDIS floor felt like part of the TARDIS landing tradition and she missed it. But she could never ask him to willingly let her fall to the floor and bang her head, that was not a part of her fiancé's nature. She smiled at him and he grinned back, taking her by the hand and dragging her towards the TARDIS doors.<p>

"Be back soon honey," the Doctor shouted to the TARDIS. "I promise."

"Don't worry!" Clara called back to the console. "I won't keep him very long; we'll be back before you know it. Same time tomorrow?"

They laughed as they flew out the doors into their back garden. Clara rolled into the Doctor's arms, kissing him passionately and causing him to blush fiercely. She giggled and he guided her inside. They slipped into the kitchen and Clara heard a noise upstairs and frowned. She looked at the Doctor and the Doctor looked back at her. They were both thinking the same thing. They pulled out their screwdrivers in unison and the Doctor shot Clara a look of pride. He loved it when she soniced things, it reminded her that she was truly his Clara.

They took the stairs quietly, not a sound made between them. The Doctor was a step ahead of Clara and both their respective sonics were brandished. The Doctor didn't know why, but apparently it was just a thing that they did. The noise was coming from their bedroom and the Doctor breathed deeply. He was determined to keep Clara behind him, in case things went to hell. He pushed open the bedroom door lightly and stepped inside, preparing himself for whatever was inside. It was Clara. And she was spread-eagled on the bed, naked.

"Hello Chin," she greeted seductively. "Like what you see?"

"Clara?!" the Doctor's eyes widened and she giggled.

"Oh come on, it's like you've never seen this before," she joked. Then the other Clara stepped into the room and the first Clara's eyes widened. "Well this is unexpected. I presume you're from the future?"

"Yep," the second Clara responded, shocked. "I can remember this now. But I couldn't a minute ago. Damn you and your shitty time streams," she punched the Doctor's arm. "We came back an hour earlier than when we left, not an hour later!"

He was flummoxed. He was used to this happening, but he was usually there, equally confused and annoyed. But he had been out, food shopping. The Clara stood by his side shrugged and went to join the other Clara on the bed, stripping off. The Doctor panicked and turned around so that he could compose himself. _Okay Doctor. You can do this. Deep breaths. Just grab Clara, get in the TARDIS and travel forwards in time two hours. Whatever you do, don't let them get comfortable. _He turned around and both Clara's were naked and kissing. He swore and they turned to him, both giggling.

"Clara!" he yelled. "Real Clara I mean, no I mean the one I came into the room with. We need to go, now. If I take the wrong one, you get caught in a time loop forever and the universe breaks down. And I can't pitch up, or the time streams get even wobblier and then things start to collapse…"

"Well Chin," one of the Clara's said. "You'll just have to join us then. Because the only way the real Clara is going to be going with you…"

"Is if you give us both your full and undivided attention," the other Clara finished. They giggled in unison.

The Doctor didn't know whether to be annoyed or excited. He was most definitely turned on. He stripped off quickly and climbed into bed with the two Clara's. He had to do this, he might as well enjoy it. He started kissing one of the Clara's, whilst the other kissed something else entirely. He gasped into the Clara that he was kissing's mouth and gave each of them a hand of his attention. After several minutes, he rolled to enter the Clara that he had been kissing and twisted so that the other had the full attention of his mouth. He had wrapped a hand around each of them and after the first Clara was successfully pleasured, he pulled out and pleasured the other one, the first lying back in agony and pleasure as he finished up. They lay back, all three of them, with the Doctor in the middle. He groaned and sat up, checking his watch. He grabbed Clara's hand and pulled her up, dragging her behind him, grabbing her clothes and thrusting them at her.

"We need to go before I get back!" he insisted. "Or the TARDIS will try and materialise on top of the TARDIS and then we're in trouble. Like universe ending trouble."

"Wait," Clara asked as he dragged her along. "Did you know I was the real one all along?"

"Of course I did, the Doctor replied slyly. "I always know, Clara Oswald. You're my Clara. And she's his Clara," he thumbed backwards to indicate his past self. "But I wasn't going to turn down that opportunity now was I?"

"We didn't turn up one hour early by accident did we?" Clara had the strangest feeling that she'd just been played.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Doctor replied, but his smirk said all that there was to say.


	27. Rory x Clara

***Right. 3 down, 6 to go. This one is set in an AU universe, where Amy and River don't exist and the Doctor travels with his married companions The Oswalds, Rory Williams-Oswald and Clara Oswald-Williams. It was sent in by whouffletothemax and I hope you guys enjoy it! The Potter Doctor***

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><p>As the Doctor flew the TARDIS, weaving left and right to avoid the missiles flying in his general direction, he had a thought. He hadn't seen the Oswalds in a while. It had only been a few months, but in his mind that was a long time, or at least it would feel like it for them. Months for them was a drop in the ocean for him, but his mind still hurt thinking about how long it had been. He missed Clara, more than words could express. He considered picking up the phone and calling them, but he'd rather just drop in unexpectedly. They liked it when he did that. Clara, his Clara. Except she wasn't his Clara. He had to remind himself of that. But she was happy and that was what mattered. The Doctor opened the TARDIS doors and stuck his head out. The Dalek fleet chasing him seemed to pause, as if excited to hear what he had to say.<p>

"Until next time fellas!" he yelled. "I've got a date with the Oswalds…"

Clara Oswald-Williams rolled out of bed and fell flat on the floor. It was a Saturday so she didn't have work, but Rory had a shift in a few hours. Grumbling, Clara sat up, rubbing her nose painfully and smelling the air. Bacon. Rory was cooking bacon. Clara giggled and pulled on her dressing gown, wrapping it around her as she took the stairs two at a time. She raced into the kitchen, a huge smile on her face and then she saw that it wasn't her husband.

"You're not Rory," she said pointedly and the Doctor frowned at her.

"Well that's lovely isn't it?" he grumbled. "I've been gone for three weeks, according to Mr Oswald, missing my best friend in the world like all hell. I come here to see you, because I miss you Clara Oswald and what do I get? 'You're not Rory!'"

Clara jumped on him, pulling him into a huge hug as he picked her up and swirled her round. She buried her head into his chest and beamed up at him.

"I missed you too Chin Boy!" she informed him. "How have you been? What's been happening?" She resisted the urge to ask him where Rory was, knowing that that would only infuriate the Doctor further.

"Oh you know," he waved nonchalantly. "Saving planets, blowing up Daleks. The usual. Rory's had to go into work early, by the way, I know that's what you really wanted to know." He knew her too well. "And we can't go on a trip without him can we? So I'm here all day, just you and me until Rory gets back!"

Clara couldn't help but be excited about that. Her Doctor, here, all day. He finished off cooking breakfast and whilst they ate, he told her some of the amazing things he had been up to. Clara sat and listened in silence, pangs running through her as she realised how much she missed travelling with the Doctor. But he had dropped her and Rory off, given them their own lives, given them freedom to do what they wanted, free of his control. The teacher and the nurse. Clara missed the Doctor. But she knew Rory didn't, at least not to the same extent and that broke her heart.

"Maybe we could just go on a couple of adventures?" she asked and the Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Just you and me?"

"Sure," he sounded apprehensive. "I mean if that's what you want. I was just thinking about Rory…"

"I love Rory!" Clara protested. "You know that. But he doesn't feel the same way about travelling that I do and I hate having to drag him along knowing how much he doesn't miss it the way I miss it. He loves you and he likes the travelling but it doesn't eat away at him the same way that it eats away at me. Doctor," she was pleading and he gave her a reluctant smile.

"Clara Oswald," he sighed. "Of course we can."

Rory was exhausted after a long twelve hour shift. He crashed in through the front door and Clara was waiting for him on the sofa. She enveloped him in a very long, very refreshing hug and her lips met his, their tongues dancing and Rory instantly felt a lot better. The Doctor was in the kitchen by the sounds of it, crashing around.

"He's making us a romantic dinner," Clara whispered. "You know we can just stay in tonight, you and me? He can come back tomorrow."

"I'd like that," Rory admitted. "He won't mind will he?"

"I'm sure he won't," Clara smirked and Rory suspected she'd already told him that it was going to be that way. She knew how to play both Rory and the Doctor like a puppet master. Rory sometimes wondered how she managed to stay here, in love with him, when the Doctor could offer her the universe. The Doctor popped his head out of the kitchen as this point to wave at Rory and then produced two plates of pasta, putting them on the table and urging Rory and Clara to sit down.

"Right," he announced. "I'll see you two lovebirds in the morning. Closwald, Roranicus."

He saluted them both individually, shooting Clara a wink as he strode out the door and in the distance they heard the TARDIS dematerialise. Rory smiled and tucked into his dinner. There was something that Clara wasn't telling him, he knew that much. He didn't probe her on it, as he knew that she would have spent longer than just a day with the Doctor and that they had inevitably been travelling together but he didn't care. Clara always came back to him and she only went with the Doctor alone because she knew Rory preferred the domestic life to the Doctor's life. If Clara wanted the best of both worlds, who was he to deny her? That night was wonderful and magical and then the next day, they jumped on board the TARDIS. And Rory had never been happier. Because he was with Clara and that was all that mattered.


	28. Jazz

***Hey guys, me again. Fourth prompt of the day is up and running, only 6 more to go now. This one is based off the one-word prompt Jazz that I was sent on tumblr and knowing shit-all about jazz, I hope I did it justice. Keep sending the prompts in! Be back soon! The Potter Doctor***

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><p>"The 1920s!" the Doctor yelled as they stepped out of the TARDIS and into a side-street, covered in grime and littered with newspapers. "Specifically, 1924, Chicago, the Prohibition Era, the Roaring Twenties! And, also, the heart of the jazz era. We are talking about some of the greatest African-American musicians that jazz has ever had. And we are going to see the great, the magnificent, Louis Armstrong!"<p>

Clara smiled. She didn't know a lot about jazz, if anything. But the Doctor was enthusiastic and she loved America, so seeing it in the 20s, back when everything was booming and amazing, felt like a history lesson come alive. The Doctor wrapped his arm around her. He was wearing his beige today, she noted and part of her wondered if he only ever wore it when he was thinking about the Ponds or taking her somewhere that he'd taken them or wanted to take them. The red bow tie was making a comeback today, she'd noted. It was more likely that his purple tweed was still in the wash, she reminded herself, whizzing away in their washing machine 90 years into the future. An odd concept. She was wearing an old fashioned dress, the likes of which they would have worn in the 20s, with a corset and frills. The Doctor loved it on her and Clara loved it on herself.

"Now remember," the Doctor instructed as they proceeded to walk down the streets. "If anyone asks, we're married."

"We are married," Clara pointed out, more than a hint of amusement in her voice but the Doctor seemed to not pick it up. Her words seemed to resonate in him and he froze before rubbing his hands together.

"Yes of course, and if those same people ask, we're on our honeymoon."

"We are on our honeymoon," Clara reminded him gently and he turned back to look at her, with a big beaming grin on his face.

"Yes, I know. Isn't it amazing?" he said and took her hand, dragging her along behind him as he laughed and cheered, running down the streets of Chicago in 1924. Before she knew it, they were outside an old, rusty bar, with the sign barely illuminated and the windows blackened up with smoke and dirt. It looked somewhat less than appetising but the Doctor dragged them inside. They sat near the back and the Doctor ordered two tap waters. When they arrived, he dropped a tablet in them, muttering something about not being too careful with sanitization in America. Clara smiled at that as she sipped her water. She was somewhat apprehensive. The Doctor poked her excitedly and she poked him back, wondering exactly what sort of a night she was in for.

Once the music started to play, she was transported to a whole other world. The jazz was so soothing, so eloquent, that it took her breath away. She barely noticed the Doctor beside her, humming along to every lyric and slapping Clara's shoulders occasionally. About halfway through his set, the amazing Louis Armstrong spotted them, sat in the back. And his face turned to thunder.

"You!" he growled and the Doctor groaned.

"Not again!" he moaned. "This happens every time. 1924, I should have remembered. Clara, get ready to run."

"You owe me a hundred bucks and a new car you son of a bitch!" he yelled and the Doctor was on his feet in an instant, pulling Clara along behind him.

"What did you do?" she squealed and the Doctor shrugged.

"I don't know!" he protested. "It was a long time ago, my fourth face was a bit of a rebel!"

Clara screamed as a bottle smashed against the wall beside her and they turned down another street so that they could see the TARDIS. The Doctor clicked his fingers and the doors flew open. The next bottle missed Clara's head by inches and it was flaming. The Doctor pulled her away and pushed her out in front of him. She dived into the TARDIS, letting off a string of curses as the Doctor followed her inside and clicked the doors shut. She punched him in the arm and he yelped in pain, looking forlornly at her.

"Next time, can we not go somewhere where I get flaming alcohol thrown at my head?" she yelled. "How do they even have flaming alcohol, it's the Prohibition Era?"

The Doctor snorted at that and Clara blushed before rolling her eyes.

"Somewhere safe from flaming cocktails?" he asked. "How about the human colony on Felgastaralldoon?"

"Will there be jazz?"

"No."

"Good."


	29. Comic-Con

***Hello everyone. I'm getting more prompts than I know what to do with, you lucky blighters, but please do keep sending them in. This is 5 of 11 for the weekend and it was sent in on tumblr. This one is fairly self-explanatory, the Doctor and Clara go to Comic-Con. I hope you enjoy it, I tried to err on the side of humour for this one. The Potter Doctor***

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><p>When Clara had first told the Doctor that they had tickets to Comic-Con, he was somewhat sceptical. He grumbled for a bit, then finally turned to excitement when he realised that he could blend in with all the comic book characters. Clara rolled her eyes, she was looking forward to it. The Doctor Who show based on his life had a stand there and she thought it would be worth going for the Doctor's reaction alone. They arrived on the Friday and dived straight into the mayhem that was Comic-Con. They weaved through the crowds, the Doctor wearing his purple tweed and Clara dressed in a red skirt. She didn't feel the need to dress up, as everyone told her that she looked just like Jenna Coleman, the actress who played the Doctor's companion.<p>

"Wow," said a small girl walking past. "She's an amazing Oswin, don't you think mummy?" Clara flushed with pride. "Who's he supposed to be?" she asked, sticking her nose up at the Doctor who glared at Clara.

"He's the Doctor," Clara informed the girl with a smile.

"Well he's rubbish," the girl told them and stalked off, dragging her mum behind her. Clara laughed and the Doctor glared harder than before.

"I hate Comic-Con," he announced. Throughout the day, it only got worse as more and people they passed complimented Clara on her costume. She met so many little Oswins and quite a few TARDIS'. But nobody seemed to be interested in the Doctor, no matter how times he demonstrated his sonic screwdriver and posed. Knowing he was on the verge of a strop, Clara suggested that they leave but, determined to prove how amazing a Doctor he was, the Doctor entered a costume lookalike contest, dragging Clara along with him. Clara was reluctant to enter but found herself glowing with pride as she won the award for best female lookalike for her Oswin impression. The Doctor found himself squaring off with another makeshift Doctor Who (quickly pointed out that it was just the Doctor but nobody listened) and when he lost, Clara burst into fits of laughter.

"No!" the Doctor screamed. "No I can't lose! I am the Doctor! I am the flaming Doctor! You can't have a TV show based off of my exploits and then say that I look less like myself than some stupid teenager in a tweed jacket! Is that even tweed?" he stormed over and grabbed the boy's jacket. "It's cotton!" he fumed. "And what is that? You call that a bow tie? Bow ties are cool and that is not even close to cool. You might as well carry a blue sonic for all the good it'll do you. Oh look, you have a blue screwdriver. Clara! He has old me's screwdriver! What the hell is this? This contest is rigged I tell you!"

By this point, Clara was on the floor, laughing so hard that she had momentarily stopped breathing. The Doctor was raging until two burly men in security outfits asked him to calm down, at which point he brandished his sonic, shouting about how he'd prove that he was the real Doctor, before sonicing the lights, sending them plunging into darkness. People started screaming and Clara felt her lungs dying under the force of her laughter. She was being plucked onto her feet by the Doctor.

"We should probably go," he whispered. "The locals are getting angry with me."


	30. Meeting the Muses

***So, this prompt is for xandrota and features Whouffle meeting 9 Ancient Greek Goddesses known as The Muses. Now I took this and had a lot of fun with it, but also played it off for cheap laughs, so try not to be offended if you believe in such things. And keep sending in prompts, I'm halfway through the 12 on my list! The Potter Doctor***

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><p>The Doctor had dragged her to another stupid play. He did that occasionally, assuming that because she was an English teacher that whenever he dragged her to some crazy obscure play in the 19th Century, she'd understand everything and be really excited and enthusiastic, when in actual fact, Clara would rather curl up in bed and watch Desperate Housewives whilst eating more ice cream than any one human should consume. She had absolutely no idea what was going on and was on the verge of falling asleep on the Doctor's arm. He looked distinctly unimpressed with her.<p>

"Clara!" he scolded. "What's wrong?"

"Doctor, I am bored," she hissed back. "I have no idea what's going on? Who are those nine women?"

"Those Clara," the Doctor leaned in to tell her. "Are the nine Muses. They are the Gods of literature, sciences and the arts in Ancient Greece. They are among the most beautiful and most respected of all the Gods. Five of them fancied me." Clara shot him a look. "Would you like to meet them?" he asked gleefully and Clara threw her arms in the air in desperation.

"Why not?!" she cried out, earning her a few hisses and odd looks from nearby punters. "Let's go and meet the nine Muses! It can't be any worse than this play."

The Doctor dragged her out of the theatre and into the TARDIS, whereby he started flipping switches and dials as Clara played nervously with her engagement ring. He was grinning at her and Clara couldn't help but be drawn to asking the question she knew he was waiting for her to ask.

"So if these Muses aren't Gods, what are they?" she asked. "I mean all myths start somewhere right?"

"Well they aren't the daughters of Zeus," the Doctor pointed out. "What they are, is a family of nine sisters. They are Entecles, a species of super-intelligent women whose ship crash-landed here back in Ancient times. They loved me, well most of them did. I'll probably get slapped Clara Oswald. I hope you appreciate that. I'm willing to get slapped by nine beautiful women for you."

Clara let out an exasperated sigh as they landed and stepped out of the TARDIS. They were Ancient Greece all right, the streets were sandy and the houses were basic. They walked for a small while until they reached a temple and they walked inside. There were people praying to nine statues and the Doctor slipped past them to a small alcove. There was a wall and the Doctor pressed a stone in and the alcove revolved in a circle so that they were stood on the other side of the wall, facing nine beautiful women, who were all sat down, but who leapt to their feet upon seeing the Doctor.

"Clara," the Doctor turned to them, grinning. "This is Calliope…" _Crack! _She slapped him. "Clio…" _Smack! _"Erato…" _Smack! _"Euterpe, Melpomene, Polyhymnia…" _Smack! Smack! Smack! _"Terpsicore, Thalia…" _Smack! Smack! _"And Urania." _Smack! _"What were all of those for?!" he demanded.

"For sleeping with my sister!" they chorused as once. At which point Clara raised an eyebrow and slapped him.

"Owwww! What was THAT for?" he groaned.

"Sleeping with their sisters!" Clara added with a grin.

"This is Clara Oswald," he grumbled. "My…associate."

"Fiancée!" Clara corrected, slapping him again.

This earned him a slap from each of the Muses again. The Doctor howled in pain and fixated Clara with his least convincing glare.

"See, twenty slaps!" he told her. "I hope you're happy. Now you've met the Muses, do you want to go back and watch the play?"

"I'd rather go to bed," Clara informed him. "So which of them did you sleep with?"

"Me!" all nine of them said and Clara glared at the Doctor who shrugged.

"It wasn't all at the same time!" he protested. "I had my hands full with them one at a time."

He dodged away from Clara, convinced this comment would earn him another slap. Clara just rolled her eyes. The Doctor eyed her carefully, before turning back to the Muses.

"So, ladies, how's things?"

"Get out Doctor," Calliope informed him. "Or we will have you executed."

"Ah, they're still upset. Clara, we should go."

"It was lovely meeting you!" Clara called to the Muses as the Doctor dragged her out of the temple and back onto the streets. "Is there anywhere else we can go where you'll get slapped by ten women in succession?"

"Tons," the Doctor replied nonchalantly. "But I've had enough of that for one day. You wanted to go to bed, so let's go to bed."

Best news of the day.


	31. Clothes Off

***Another prompt, this one for whouffletothemax. It's a direct quote: "You're going to have to take those clothes off!" so it was always going to end up being smutty to some extent. I went to a slightly lesser extent and this is quite a short prompt, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless. Please PM me or drop a review on here with some more prompts for me and there'll be more up all through the night. TPD out***

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><p>"You're going to have to take those clothes off!" the Doctor instructed. He had to admit, when he had first said those words, so very long ago to Clara Oswin Oswald, he had never imagined saying them again, in totally different circumstances, to an entirely different Clara Oswald. His Clara Oswald. She was soaked to the skin and shivering as he dragged her inside the TARDIS, apologising for what seemed like the millionth time.<p>

"Why would you take us on the Titanic?" she yelled for what seemed like the millionth time. "On the day it was supposed to sink?"

"I got the date wrong!" he snapped. "It happens."

"I almost drowned!"

"You made a meal of it!"

"I am so angry with you!"

"Well I'm even angrier!"

They were kissing now; the Doctor ripping off Clara's soaking wet clothes as she shivered. She was shaking she was so cold and the Doctor suddenly forgot about kissing her, all of his thoughts on warming her up. He pressed his hand against her forehead. She was cold as ice. He pulled off his own, slightly less wet clothes and rubbed his naked body up against Clara's in a desperate attempt to warm her up. She was shivering so much, the Doctor was surprised that she was still conscious. He scooped her up into his arms and at this point, her shivers were more extreme and the Doctor felt her start to drift away in his arms.

"Stay with me Clara!" he shouted, doubting she could even hear him. He rubbed her body with his hands, desperate to keep her warm. She mumbled something he couldn't hear as he raced through the TARDIS, bypassing the showers completely, a new idea in his head.

"You know what to do!" he yelled to his old girl and sure enough, there it was. The Doctor took a run up and jumped into the swimming pool, cannoning in with Clara still in his arms. The temperature of the pool was perfect, but it would feel like fire to Clara, who seemingly had ice running in her veins. He kissed her forehead and washed the water over her, desperate for her to warm up. His plan seemed to be working, as Clara moved about in his arms, in a gentle movement, not a thrashing one. He breathed a sigh of relief.

They lay there for what seemed like an eternity, Clara unconscious but warming as the Doctor didn't dare move. He kissed her forehead once more, losing count of how many times he had now. She stirred and then her eyes fluttered open. The Doctor checked her temperature. It was level with the water. He grinned down at her. She blinked several times and smiled at him.

"We're naked," she pointed out and he grinned.

"Yes, yes we are. And you're alive."

"In the swimming pool. Naked, in the swimming pool."

"Yep."

"Was this really necessary to save my life or just one more place in the TARDIS to cross off of your list?"

"I don't have a list!" he protested. "Who has a list?"

"Everyone. Everyone has a list," Clara informed him. "I mean, I was going to suggest it sooner or later, but there is such a thing as too keen."

"Well," the Doctor shrugged. "We're here now."

"Yes we are Chin-Boy. Yes we are. Geronimo."


	32. Multiple Doctors

***So earlier on today, I posted a Multiple Claras prompt I got sent in. Then, another anon sent in the idea of exactly the same thing, only with multiple Doctors instead of Claras. And then I had an idea. So, I give you: Sasswin, Allonswin and Souffez, all rolled into one Whouffle prompt. Smutty of course and I hope you enjoy! The Potter Doctor***

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><p>The Doctor didn't like being summoned. He especially didn't like being summoned anonymously. So when he ended up with a note on his psychic paper saying:<p>

_26 Industrial Street, London_

_25__th__ June 2014_

_7:59pm_

_Come alone x_

He was less than impressed. The fact that it had a date, a time and a kiss, made the Doctor nervous. The fact that he was supposed to come alone more so. He had felt bad leaving Rose, but the note was very specific and he was worried that the consequence of bringing Rose would be her death, even if the note did have a kiss and he couldn't have that. After all, the Doctor could think of many people who wanted him dead and plenty of them would leave a kiss on the end of a note to entice him. In any case, Rose could cope for one day back home without him. Her mother would fuss and Mickey would flirt and the Doctor would go back for her soon enough. Assuming he survived. He stepped out of the TARDIS and knew that in truth, he probably should not have come. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind. The house seemed perfectly ordinary, he couldn't imagine for a second what might be the problem. He didn't do house calls. This made him uneasy. He strode over to the house and was about to knock on the front door, when another figure stepped in alongside him, regarding him with pure shock.

"It can't be!" he gasped and the Doctor raised an eyebrow, eyeing him up and down. The man had a brown pinstriped suit and a tan overcoat. His hair was absolutely wild and he had an annoyed expression on his face. "Did you get the note too?"

"The one telling me to come to the exact same place as you at the exact same time alone?" the Doctor asked sarcastically. "Yes I got the same note. Now who are you with the stupid suit and the silly hair?"

"I'm…" he seemed to hesitate and the Doctor groaned.

"You have got to be kidding me!" he muttered, cottoning on. "Really? With the Sandshoes and everything? Jesus what will Rose think of me?"

"So, why don't we find out who summoned us?" the other man asked, his face getting a troubled look when the Doctor mentioned Rose. The Doctor turned back to the door and rapped several times.

A man in a purple tweed jacket answered, a bow tie around his neck and his hair even stupider, if that was even possible, than the man to the Doctor's left, opened the door, his carefree smile dropping off the face of the earth the second that he saw the two men stood on his doorstep.

"One moment gentlemen," he said breezily before shouting into the house. "CLARA OSWIN OSWALD! WHY IN THE NAME OF GALLIFREY ARE SANDSHOES AND LEATHER JACKET ON OUR DOORSTEP!"

"Oh hey boys," called a young, beautiful woman who had just come downstairs. She had short hair, cut to her chin and it was the most shining shade of brown the Doctor had ever seen. She was very short but made it work, her dress fitting her perfectly. But her face was where the Doctor could see himself falling in love with her. She had the softest red lips known to man and eyes so brown you could lose yourself in them forever. "I told you Chin, it's just Clara Oswald. How many times must you be told? And I invited them. Come on in, you clever boys."

Both the Doctor and the other man, who he assumed was also the Doctor stepped inside the house.

"I'm sorry, what are they doing here?" the man in the purple tweed asked. The Doctor assumed he was also the Doctor, but he wasn't sure. He was still staring at the short brunette with the lovely smile and incredible eyes. She winked at him and he felt his legs go to jelly. What the hell was this? In 900 years of time and space, he'd never been so captivated. "Oh for God's sake Clara, you've got them all googly eyes. Don't mind her; the fact that there are three of us right now is confusing the timelines. My love for Clara is bleeding backwards through time, so you two are falling in love with her because I'm already in love with her."

"She's beautiful," the Doctor found himself uttering and Clara blushed. Sandshoes looked as googly eyed but Purple Tweed looked disgusted.

"Well," Clara was saying. "You got to spend the night with two Claras, so I thought I'd spend the night with three Doctors. After all, it's only fair, right gentlemen?"

Sandshoes nodded and the Doctor found himself agreeing. Tweed was unhappy but Clara crooked her finger, leading them upstairs and sure enough, Tweed followed.

"You realise you're taking advantage of the fact that weak timelines mean they're completely infatuated?" Tweed was saying.

"Only as infatuated as you," Clara countered. "And you're following, just the same."

"Well I'm not going to let Sandshoes and Leather Jacket have all the fun, especially considered as though they'll both end up forgetting you. If not, we could have a universe ending paradox on our…"

"Shut up Chin," Clara told him, snogging him to shut him up as the three Doctors piled into the bedroom. She then kissed Sandshoes and suddenly it was the Doctor's turn. He gasped as their lips met and it was the softest, most magical thing the Doctor could remember tasting. Their tongues were toying with each other and Clara was leading him on a merry dance. The leather jacket was discarded and his shirt wouldn't be far behind. But Clara had stopped and she had taken a step back, admiring all three. "Well it's to be expected," she mused. "After all, the older you get, the more experience you gain. Better buck your ideas up Leather Jacket."

The Doctor realised she was insulting him and went red. He stepped forward to kiss her again, but Sandshoes had beaten him to the punch. Sandshoes was topless now, at which point, Tweed took over. Tweed had done this before, the Doctor could tell that straight away, as he deepened the kiss. It was as if he knew every contour of Clara's body and when he touched her, the Doctor could see Clara was electrified. Her dress was gone now and the Doctor swooped in, unclipping her bra and sending his hands to her breasts. Clara gasped. He was the Doctor, but not her Doctor and this must have been strange for her. Suddenly, the Doctor was pushing Clara onto the bed and Sandshoes was pushing him to one side, Clara's knickers were gone and all three Doctors took a moment to appreciate Clara's naked body. They stood, all three of them exchanging looks and Clara rolled her eyes.

"Well come on then you idiots, I haven't got all day."

They exchanged looks once more and then they went to work.

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><p>The Doctor landed the TARDIS and when he opened it, Rose was stood outside, eyeing him up casually.<p>

"So where have you been?" she asked, a sly grin on her face as she stepped into the TARDIS, a spring in her step. He couldn't remember. He'd got the note, gone to the address and then…nothing. It was as if his entire memory of the event had never happened. Except a name. A name that he couldn't quite get out of his head.

"With Clara," he replied cheerily, flipping switches on the console as Rose raised an eyebrow.

"And who is this Clara?" Rose asked.

"I have no idea," the Doctor laughed. "She was great though. I can remember that much. She must have wiped my memory somehow, funny these things happen isn't it Rose?"

Rose looked the exact opposite of impressed.


	33. Pregnancy Test

***So, all the way back in Gallifreyan Compliment, I mentioned that the Doctor was basically a walking pregnancy test and could sniff out when Clara was pregnant with their kids, Craig and Ellie. Fast forward to today, and I got an anon prompt on tumblr asking for a pregnancy test prompt. So lo and behold, here we are. I couldn't resist. As ever Transitions spoilers, but this is about as cute and fluffy as they come. I really hope you enjoy and there are more on their way ASAP. The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Clara hadn't believed him. The Doctor had spent their entire lives together saying or doing stupid things, fooling Clara into believing all kinds of insane theories. She was done with his crap, but she had long since stopped trying to fight him on it. Whenever he said something stupid or insane, something that could never be true in a million years, she just accepted it as true and moved on, aware of the fact that any minute he would tell her that she was silly for believing it. Since she'd started playing his game, the fun for it was taken out of it for him and eventually he stopped it entirely. But, one afternoon, he stepped into the kitchen while she was cooking, as he so often did, and took a great big sniff of the air. And then he frowned, just a little. Clara panicked and looked at the rice that was boiling.<p>

"Oh God," she cried. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," the Doctor said absent-mindedly, his face stricken. He moved in closer, sniffing all the while. He was grinning now and Clara raised an eyebrow. She was very confused and it wasn't until he was literally sniffing her stomach that she said anything.

"Um…sweetie?" she asked quietly. "What are you doing?"

"Quiet!" he instructed. "I'm sniffing!"

"I can see-" Clara never got to finish her sentence because he put a finger to her lips and then leaned in to listen to her stomach. "What are you doing?" she mumbled again and this earned her a glare from the Time Lord.

"You're pregnant," he announced, standing up and staring at her with the strangest look on his face. "You're going to have a baby girl. We're going to have a baby girl. Our child. How amazing is that?"

"Doctor," Clara stood, her hand had stopped stirring the rice as she fixated on his beaming grin. "Are you actually trying to tell me that you just sniffed me and now you think I'm pregnant?" He nodded. "You're insane. Properly insane. Stop toying with me. Stop messing with my head Doctor, I can't be pregnant."

"Why not?" he cocked his head. "We have sex enough and you stopped taking the pill."

"But we've been trying for months!" she exclaimed. "Longer than that. We didn't even think it was possible for a human and a Time Lord to…"

"Well apparently we have!" he replied, a grin still on his face as Clara stared at him in disbelief. She couldn't believe him. All she'd ever wanted was a child with the Doctor, so to have him give her false hope, it would kill her. She paced the room and the Doctor moved in to give her the biggest hug ever, before backing off. It was almost as if he didn't want to hurt the non-existent baby. Clara glared at him.

"I'm taking a test," she announced. "I don't trust a word you say, you liar, liar, pants on fire."

The Doctor grumbled at this, insisting that there wasn't a pregnancy test invented more accurate than his nose, but Clara was adamant. She ran to the nearest shop and grabbed three tests, beaming at the guy behind the counter. She was in her 30s, she no longer had to be ashamed of buying them, especially considering the locals had known her and the Doctor had been married for years. But nevertheless she felt awkward, as if she were being judged, although that was far from being the case. She hurried back and shut herself in the bathroom, the Doctor stood on the other side of the door, rolling his eyes.

Clara opened the door and stared at him, her eyes wide with tears.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered, the noise barely leaving her mouth. "Oh my God Doctor, I'm pregnant."

He was crying now and they embraced, a tearful kiss, but a moment that neither of them would forget for the rest of their lives.


	34. Clara Brings Home A Puppy

***Hello again. Long night of prompt writing, I expect some of you are going to have a lot of prompts to catch up on. So, this one is another inclusion to the Transitions era, and a fairly substantial one in my view. I took what was supposed to be a smutty prompt, where the Doctor gets angry at Clara for bringing home a puppy and they end up in the shower and I tried to fill it with as much emotional Whouffle fluff as I could. I hope you enjoy and don't forget, more are on the way. The Potter Doctor* **

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><p>The Doctor didn't know why, but the TARDIS was upset. He could hear it. He could feel it. He was lying in bed, having had a long day. He was looking up at the orange Gallifreyan sky. He didn't know why he in the TARDIS and not in the house, but sometimes he just wanted to retreat to his bedroom and look back at his memories of Gallifrey. He missed it so much and it was close. It was within his reach. Because of Clara. Without her, he would have burned Gallifrey, killing billions of innocents in the process. Gratitude was something that the Doctor could never give enough of to Clara Oswald. He had married her, given her a daughter and offered to spend the rest of his very long life with her. He didn't have long left, he knew that much. His body would be lucky to make it until the end of Clara's life. And this was his last body. Unless he found Gallifrey, that was it. He was dead. That should have been extra incentive to get out of bed and look for his real planet, rather than just sitting here, staring at his memories. But that would mean leaving the little life he had built with Clara Oswald behind. And that was something that he would never, ever do. If he died, he would die happy, knowing that he loved Clara more than anything and that they would die old together. The TARDIS whined again and the Doctor leapt out of bed.<p>

"Alright dear!" he called. "I'm coming."

He strolled down the halls, patting the side of the TARDIS soothingly as he did so. This would be her doing. Clara's. If it wasn't one of them acting up it was the other one. Why were humans and time machines always at each other's throats? Rose and the TARDIS had never had any problems. Apart from the time that Rose had broken the console with a truck…the TARDIS was probably jealous of Clara. Yes, that would explain it. As he entered the console room, he realised exactly why the TARDIS was annoyed. And so was he.

"No!" he shouted immediately and Clara pulled a face. "Out! Right now, get out!"

"But Doctor," Clara protested. "Look at how cute he is."

She was holding a puppy on a leash. A Yorkshire Terrier, a tiny little thing. The Doctor looked at the thing with pure disgust and the TARDIS whined again. He agreed with her. What an ugly monstrosity, he wouldn't have it anywhere near his TARDIS. Clara's eyes were even more puppy dog than the puppy dog but he was furious.

"Get that animal out of my TARDIS!" he snapped. Clara raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, then I'll take her into OUR house!" she retorted, putting the emphasis on the OUR as if to remind the Doctor that he was in a co-dependent relationship, as if he needed reminding. "I got her for Ellie anyway. She'll be home from day care in an hour and she'll be super excited."

"Ellie is not having a puppy!" the Doctor told her and Clara raised an eyebrow, letting go of the dog's leash. It ran out of the TARDIS, yipping angrily and it was gone, both of them forgetting about it as they glared at each other angrily.

"I don't remember giving you permission to make joint decisions for our daughter!" Clara growled. "She's my daughter as much as she is yours and if she wants a puppy…"

"I'm not making a decision for Ellie," the Doctor retorted. "You brought a dog into the TARDIS Clara, she's traipsing mud everywhere. The old girl may never forgive me. I don't like dogs, she doesn't like dogs. They have to be fed and watered and cared for and I don't have the time or inclination to stay in one place for that long!"

Realising his mistake, he tried to backtrack, but Clara's face was like thunder. He stammered but she was on top of him now, poking him in the chest repeatedly.

"First of all," she said, her voice quiet but deadly. "I'm muddier than the bloody dog, I'm dripping mud all over the floor. What are you going to do about it? We've come in in worse states before and will again. Secondly, and more importantly, if you don't have the time and inclination to stay in one place, then go. Fuck off. Right now. Because I will not have my daughter grow up to have a father who only appears when it suits him. You don't think I haven't been scared every day since we got married? Every day that one day this blue box would be gone and would never come back? Well I got over that. Because I was convinced, utterly convinced Doctor, that you would never, could never do that to me. But if this is truly the way you feel, if you don't even have the patience to handle a puppy, then I am more than happy for you to go. Ellie is three, she won't even remember you."

"Clara," the Doctor wanted to cry now and she looked like she was fit to burst with both anger and tears. "I didn't mean it like that. I have no attachment to some stupid dog. But I love you. More than anything. More than finding Gallifrey, I want to stay with you. I've finally accepted the fact that I'm going to die here, on earth with you and I am happy. I would rather die than leave you and Ellie. I swear it. You can keep the puppy. I didn't mean it like that." He was crying now. "I love you more than anything Clara Oswald and I want to spend every second of the rest of my life showing you that. If that means deactivating the TARDIS so that you think I'll never run away then that is what I will do."

Clara bit her lip and smiled at him tearfully. Then she kissed him passionately and he kissed her back, full of love and cherishment.

"You know," she whispered. "I'm still filthy. I could really use a shower."

"I'll join you," the Doctor grinned, never wanting to leave her side again.


	35. Merry Un-Birthday

***Right, so I've been writing a lot of prompts today, but if you like Transitions and you like the epilogue then this is the one for you. It's called Merry Un-Birthday and is based on the idea of Clara deciding that the Doctor needs a birthday. And I really hope you like it and frankly, I hope you cry your eyes out. The Potter Doctor***

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><p>One thing that had always bothered Clara about the Doctor was that he never celebrated a birthday. She celebrated hers on November 23rd every year and he was always there, making it the best day of her year, every year. But he had never given her anything to return with. He wasn't from Earth, she got that much, but surely he still had some day that was important to him, some day that he could use as a birthday of sorts. She had probed him on the matter several times, until he finally had an answer.<p>

"31st March," he informed her and she frowned. "It was the first day we met," he informed her. "The day when I crashed into your life, the day that we fought the Wi-Fi. That is the only other day that matters to me Clara. I am so old that even if I did have a birthday, I would have long since forgotten it. But, Clara Oswald, you mean everything to me. And the day I met you is the day that I would be honoured to call my Un-Birthday."

So that was the day. The 31st of March became the Doctor's Un-Birthday. And Clara loved it. Every year, it felt like he had a real birthday. A family, who could look after him. In time, over the years, with Clara, Ellie and Craig by his side, the Doctor felt like a person, like a real person. Although he still travelled in the TARDIS all the time, sometimes without Clara's permission, just to get some fresh air from a planet that wasn't Earth, he felt like a dad and a husband and he had a birthday.

But Clara grew old. And Ellie and Craig grew up. And they went off to have children of their own. And suddenly, the Doctor's little world was changing. He was still the same man that they all knew but they were all changing in front of his eyes. And he didn't know what to do. As Clara grew older and older, he could feel his body giving up, more and more. And then he found Gallifrey. He got a new regeneration cycle. And it almost broke his heart. It almost killed him to know that he would outlive Clara. The one woman that, for the first time in his life, he thought he would never outlive, couldn't outlive. He had resigned himself to that fate. But suddenly, he was the Doctor again. He was no longer an old man, waiting to die with his family, but a Time Lord, ready to defy the High Council, burn Daleks out of the sky and take crazy companions on crazy adventures. And he wasn't sure he wanted that anymore.

But what never changed, what never ever changed, was his Un-Birthday. Every year, every single year without fail, on March 31st, Craig and Ellie would come home, bringing Jenna and Ollie and Carmen and the Doctor would smile and play with his grandchildren and Clara would look over sadly, knowing that she was one year closer to losing her Doctor forever. Or rather, he was one year closer to losing her. She had been there on Gallifrey of course. They all knew Clara. They all worshipped Clara, as well they should. She was the woman who saved all of their ungrateful behinds, not him. He had done the legwork sure, but without Clara, they would have been blown to bits. Without Clara, the Doctor would never have found them. He loved her for that.

And then suddenly, he'd reached the last Un-Birthday. Craig, Ellie, Jenna, Ollie and Carmen didn't understand. They said so. But Clara did. Clara had always understood him better than anyone. So when he'd said it, she'd just nodded and shed a tear. It was his last Un-Birthday, because without Clara, he would have nothing to celebrate. No Un-Birthday. And long after all their kids and grandkids had gone home, they were lying in bed together.

"I can't believe we've reached the end," he whispered. "The final months. The final two months. The final Un-Birthday. My Clara," he was crying now. "I'm going to lose you. And I don't know if I can cope. I've had my hearts broken so many times by so many people. But I have loved you for so long and so perfectly. If it wasn't for Jenna, I wouldn't regenerate. But she needs someone. The only one of our grandchildren that ended up a Time Lord. And she'll need her Grandfather by her side. But I can't do it Clara, not without you. My Clara."

"My Doctor," she soothed, her voice old and frail, but no less loving. "I have always loved you. And I always will. You can do this, you always have. You will run, the way you always have. And everything will work out. I promise. Merry Un-Birthday Chin-Boy."

And then he cried and she held him and he would never forget his final Un-Birthday.


	36. Tumblr

***Prompt number 12 of the day, Jesus it has been a long and tiring day of Souffez. I hope you guys like it, after a couple of heavy ones, I'd thought I'd go light and fluffy. The Doctor gets addicted to Tumblr, I hope you enjoy it. Now I might get one more up tonight, or I might pass out. One of the two. There are still 7 prompts on my list, I've had about 15 prompts today it's been crazy. Enjoy, more are coming soon and frequently. The Potter Doctor***

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><p>The last time that the Doctor had mentioned Tumblr, it had quickly spiralled into something that neither of them was entirely comfortable with. Clara had had fun, but it was something that was best left in the past. So when she saw him scrolling through posts, face frowning and cursing at various bits and bobs, her immediate reaction was panic.<p>

"Sweetie?" she asked quietly, standing over him. "What are you doing back on Tumblr?"

"Shut up," he muttered. "I'm reblogging."

Clara huffed off, annoyed with him. It wasn't until she saw him several hours later that she realised that she may have a problem on her hands. He was still sat, eyes glued to the screen, clicking away like his life depended on it. She frowned and plucked the laptop away from him, giving him her best teacher frown as he howled and pathetically dived for the laptop.

"Clara!" he gasped. "If I don't reblog GerryLoverXOXO's post before midnight tonight then a strange man will appear in front of my bed and kill me! And I still have 3 questions in my ask box! How will my followers know that I'm thinking of them when I'm not reblogging Frozen spoilers? Clara!"

This was truly pathetic. A 1200 year old man, throwing a strop because she had confiscated his tumblr. Clara had had enough. She brought the laptop over her knee and snapped it in two. The Doctor stared at her in horror. He stood up menacingly, staring into Clara's eyes. He straightened his bow tie. Clara giggled and leaned forward, straightening it properly. He cricked his neck and managed to dislodge his bow tie. He wasn't even remotely threatening and Clara had to hold back laughter.

"Clara Oswald," the Doctor warned. "Do you have any idea what you have just done?"

"I stopped this ridiculous fad of yours!" she replied. "You've been on that thing for hours, what on Earth were you thinking?!" Behind her, in the distance, there was an explosion and the Doctor crossed his arms at her. She frowned and ran over to the window. There was a cloud of smoke and dust somewhere in the distance and she turned back to the Doctor, who still had his arms crossed. He looked furious.

"You know what Clara!" he yelled. "You humans always assume they know what they're doing. But no. Did it ever occur to you Clara, that I was on tumblr for a reason? Did it not occur to you that I was using it as a front to infiltrate an alien terrorist organisation? No. And because of your stupidity, that bomb has gone off, killing hundreds of people. Are you happy now?"

"Nice try Chin-Boy," Clara retorted. "But that was just the demolishing of the old Shard building. And no, you're not getting the laptop back."

"But Clara!"


	37. Regeneration Gone Crazy

***Hey there guys, a fantastically weird and wonderful anonymous prompt here about a crazy regeneration. There'll be another prompt up before midnight, so I hope you guys enjoy it and keep on sending them in :) TPD***

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><p>Not again. This couldn't happen to her again. Clara had already lost one Doctor; she couldn't bear to lose another. But she forced herself to remain calm. He was still the Doctor, he would still be the Doctor. Whatever he changed into, he would still be the same man that she fell in love with and that was still going to be the case. She had learned that the hard way the last time he had regenerated but she was all the better for that knowledge. She clicked her fingers and the TARDIS doors fell open. He grunted as she dragged him, barely able to support his weight but she was desperate to get him inside. She made the final few harsh steps and then he was leaning on the console instead of her, grunting as she clicked her fingers again and the door slammed shut behind her. She wanted to cry as he stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, his piercing eyes never leaving her.<p>

"Oh hell," he muttered. "That Dalek got me good. I'm going Clara, but you've done this before. We've done this before. Whatever happens, we can cope. I love you and I believe you."

Clara was fighting back tears but when she saw the orangey yellow light, the same light that had haunted her nightmares for so long, she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably as the Doctor gasped and the light exploded around him for what seemed like an eternity but was little more than a moment or two. Then, he was her. He was literally Clara. She let out a squeal of shock and then just stood, staring at him (her?). The Doctor was frowning and it looked exactly like Clara was frowning. It was beyond unnerving.

"Clara?" the Doctor asked in her voice. "Have you grown? Oh God, I'm short aren't I? And I'm a girl too, but the sounds of the voice. Blimey, feel this body Clara, I am smoking. I have hair, so much hair, all of the hair. Why the hell does my voice sound so familiar? Clara would you stop staring at me like that? I understand I'm probably very attractive and you're probably a little bit turned on right now and you don't know why and shit the bed that's your voice. I'm talking in your voice. Clara Oswin Oswald why am I talking in your voice? Did I?" There was a dramatic pause, during which Clara didn't know what to say or what to do. "Am I you?"

She nodded weakly. Then the Doctor let out a raucous giggle that sounded odd coming from Clara's mouth, and then she shook herself a touch, and suddenly, she wasn't Clara anymore, but now a man, taller and older with a twinkling smile. Clara let out a sigh of relief. He winked at her and she punched him playfully.

"Trolled you!" he laughed. And that was the start of a beautiful romance.


	38. ClaraTARDIS

***So this is one is another anonymous prompt and I wanted to explore the TARDIS and Clara's relationship and how it has developed, including some thoughts on how Clara has changed over the course of her relationship with the Doctor. Enjoy and keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>Clara clambered out of her bed and strolled into the console room. It had been a long night of sleeping, with the Doctor still out like a light. It was the night before their wedding and had been for far too long now. But she couldn't stop. The travelling was so much fun and every trip they went on, she could feel herself becoming more like him. She had a sonic screwdriver, which she had taken to pulling out at regular intervals and was even getting the hang of using it. She loved travelling and she had developed a bit of a swagger. She had saved whole worlds, stopped evil villains and she was always there by the Doctor's side. There were times when he'd shoot her a look and he'd be thinking: she's becoming me and he looked both proud and terrified simultaneously. She had been subconsciously stroking the console and she hadn't even realised it. She had kissed the console previously and she felt a real attachment to the console, the same way that the Doctor did.<p>

Her relationship with the machine had developed so much. Once upon a time, it had been off with her and had been a right cow. But Clara had scolded the machine and since then, things had only gone uphill. The Doctor had taught Clara how to fly her and she could open her doors with a click of her fingers. Their mutual love had been growing and Clara felt a real emotional attachment to the thing she had once called an appliance.

"I love you, you know," she whispered. "You've given me and the Doctor so much, and you're always there for me when I need you. You helped me save him and you let me fly you. You've even stopped hiding my bedroom. I think we both know how lucky we are to have him. And let's face it, without me, he wouldn't have picked you either."

The TARDIS beeped at this, but it was an affectionate beep. There was an odd noise and suddenly Clara found herself falling against the console, clinging to it for dear life. The TARDIS beeped again and Clara laughed.

"Was that you hugging me?" she asked, getting a beep in response. "I love you too. Just don't tell Chin that. He'll never let me live it down."


	39. Raxacoricofallapatorius

***So I saw a nasty headcanon on tumblr about how Raxacoricofallapatorius is the Doctor and Rose's word and every time one of them says it, the other hugs them. So, I took that into account and decided to write a short but sweet Allonswin one-shot. I hope you guys enjoy it and there'll be more prompts up later today :) TPD***

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><p>The Doctor stared out at the carnage below him. The TARDIS had parked on a bridge, high above the fighting families below. The five main families of Raxacoricofallapatorius were in the middle of a huge war and the Doctor knew that he shouldn't be here. At that point, a rocket shot upwards, missing the bridge by centimetres. Beside him, Clara barely flinched and he loved that about her. She did flinch of course but she didn't scream and the Doctor was pleased by her bravery.<p>

"Where are we?" she breathed. The Doctor put on his best smug face as he went to reply, but the words never came out. He couldn't say it. He was still remembering the first time she had said it, the first time Rose had said it and she'd landed in his arms. Every time they'd said the word, they'd accentuated it with a hug, one so deep and loving. The Doctor couldn't bring himself to do it. To put himself through it.

"Doctor?" Clara asked, concerned, poking him gently in his ribcage. "What's wrong? Have you been here before?"

He nodded. He felt ill now and he turned to smile to Clara weakly. Her smile lit up her face, even though it was a caring one and the Doctor sighed.

"Raxacoricofallapatorius," he said quietly. "That's where we are."

She needed no more explanation than that. She could clearly see from the look in his eyes exactly what it was that was upsetting him. And then suddenly, Clara was in his arms, pulling him into a fierce hug and he was lifting her off of her feet, the same way that he had done with Rose, all those years ago.

"You still miss her," Clara whispered and it wasn't a question. She kissed the Doctor's cheek.

"I have you now," he replied sadly.


	40. Son In Law To Be

***Hey guys! This is the first of two prompts going up tonight and it's for xandrota. It's the Doctor's first meeting with Clara's father and his soon to be Father-In-Law. Obviously, this isn't Transitions because I've already done the first meeting thing before, but it is set in a universe where the Doctor is a Time Lord. I hope you enjoy! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was sat in a bar, drinking. This was not his usual habitat, it had to be said, but Clara was in a mood with him, so here he was. He wasn't entirely sure why she was angry with him either, something about how now that they were engaged he couldn't just gallivant off in the TARDIS whenever he wanted to save planets and try his hardest not to seduce other women. It wasn't exactly the Doctor's fault that the women of the universe found him irresistible, but Clara didn't see it that way. He sipped the rubbish Earth beer and sighed at how inferior it was. But he didn't have the TARDIS, they'd left it in London when they'd driven up to Blackpool to meet Clara's dad. They were meeting him tomorrow for lunch and they were staying in a hotel until then. Clara was probably still there, in a foul mood with him, so the Doctor didn't want to go back. He didn't know how to deal with women and Clara had told him to fuck off, so he was giving her space. He'd give her space and time if he could but his machine was absent.<p>

A man pulled up into the bar stool beside the Doctor, clearly quite inebriated and the Doctor rolled his eyes. The man ordered two shots of whiskey and slid one to the Doctor. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, examining the man. He was older than he supposed the Doctor would be, in his 50s probably, with greying hair and wrinkling skin. He looked very tired and older than he should be and he scowled at the Doctor when he looked at him.

"Drink misery guts!" he ordered and the Doctor frowned. "Look son, you're obviously hung up over a woman, so whoever she is, the solution is to drink." He slammed his shot and the Doctor hesitantly followed suit. Whiskey wasn't very effective on Time Lords, but the taste was vile. "So what in the hell is your problem sonny?"

"My fiancée," the Doctor muttered. "She's pissy with me because I can't stay still or in one place for a long time." He ordered two more doubles of whiskey, downed them both, hoping that would have an effect and then ordered another round of singles for him and the man. Having now finished off six shots of whiskey, the Doctor necked his pint and the man was looking at him with something akin to awe. Suddenly, the Doctor was feeling more than a little tipsy. Even Time Lords shouldn't drink that much that fast.

"I like your style mate," the man slung the Doctor another shot, which was a mistake but he did it anyway. "She sounds like a real bitch. You want my advice? Fuck her, then sling her hook, be rid of her. You don't need no whore holding you down."

"That's my fiancée!" the Doctor growled and the man put his hands up in mock terror.

"What are you going to do skinny?" he taunted. "Give me a paper cut with those cheekbones of yours? Maybe jab me with your chin?"

The Doctor was angry now and the alcohol was blurring his rationality so he punched. His fist felt sluggish to him but the pace of the punch was too fast and the man took one right in the jaw. The barman, who had seen this coming, swore and ducked for cover, shouting for help as the man barrelled into the Doctor. They went crashing, flying over the bar, smashing bottles as they collided with the far wall. The Doctor ducked a punch and sent several into the man's ribs, ducking and weaving to avoid getting hit. Then he took one in the face and went spiralling, the man throwing in a few kicks as the Doctor tried to get to his feet. The Doctor pulled out his sonic and smashed an array of bottles behind the man with a press of it, showering him in glass. He let out an angry swear as the Doctor rolled away and got up, touching his side painfully. At this point, the bouncers intervened, one of them grabbing the Doctor from behind whilst two of them restrained the man.

"For God's sake," the man shouted. "Not again!"

They were restrained while the police pitched up and while they took statements, the bar staff called the hotel where Clara was staying at because the Doctor had no phone, no money to settle his bar tab and no idea what was going on, except that he flashed his psychic paper to inform the police he was an important dignitary so they'd let him go. They were out the back of the bar, the Doctor, the man, three bouncers and two policemen when Clara pitched up, in an even worse mood than the Doctor had remembered. She stood there, and the Doctor noticed the man pale up when she arrived. She was glaring at the Doctor, and then her eyes flicked to the man sat down and suddenly he was the one on the end of her laser vision.

"A bar brawl?" she asked incredulously, her eyes flicking from one to the other. The Doctor was confused when the man nodded alongside him. "Are you fucking serious? What the fuck were you two playing at? I mean I know I was nervous about you two meeting but still…"

"Wait?" the Doctor's face paled. "Is he…"

"Is that…" the man turned to the Doctor.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Clara snapped. "Doctor, this is my drunken excuse of a father, Dave. Dad, this is my unbelievably stupid fiancé. How did this even start?"

The Doctor and Dave looked at each other and Dave pulled a face.

"He called you a whore!" the Doctor started pointing fingers like a twelve year old child.

"I didn't know you were engaged to my fucking daughter!" Dave snapped, earning him a withering glance from Clara, who let out a sharp sigh.

"Well now that you've been acquainted," she said, her voice dangerous. "I'm going to bed. I'll drop you at home Dad and you!" she was pointing at the Doctor now. "Don't go running off again. I want you where I can see you."

There was a faint hint of amusement in her voice along with the exasperation. After they dropped Dave off, she couldn't help but smile at him as they drove home.

"I love you, you know?" she said and the Doctor looked confused. "I don't say it enough. And I was only angry because I hate the idea that you're off somewhere without me, having adventures and…"

He silenced her with a quick kiss and a glance at the road. Clara blushed and tried to focus on driving.

"I'm sorry for starting a bar brawl with your father," he said quietly.

"Don't be," Clara smirked. "He needed someone to give him a good rap on the jaw."

And when they got home the next night, the Doctor wondered why he had ever wanted to be anywhere else.


	41. Clara Meets An Echo

***For an anon on tumblr, this prompt involves the Doctor and Clara meeting an echo of Clara's. I thought I'd keep this one on darker lines than the usual fluff and comedy, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless. Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>The TARDIS was groaning and straining as it always did, pretending to kick up a fuss about every little thing so that the Doctor would give her attention. Clara giggled and let her hand run along the console in an affectionate way as it came to a halt.<p>

"So where do you reckon we've ended up?" she asked with a grin. The Doctor frowned.

"You mean: 'where are we'?"

"No," Clara let a smile tease her lips. "I mean where do you think we are? Because I want to know how wrong you're going to be when we step out of those doors."

"I'm not…I mean I'm never…shut up!" The Doctor looked like he was going to strop so Clara giggled and threw a kiss onto his lips. This seemed to calm him down. Clara decided to play his game.

"So where are we?" she asked, trying her best not to make it sound sarcastic.

"We are in New, New York," the Doctor informed her. "Miles into the future, how cool is that?"

Clara grinned as they flung open the TARDIS doors and stepped out. The city in front of them was run down, like it had fallen apart at the seams. There were slums everywhere and even the taller buildings were drooping, like they could fall over at any minute. The Doctor shot Clara an apologetic look.

"We're in New Los Angeles," he confessed. "And nowhere near as far into the future as I was hoping to be. This is the New American Civil War, the year 4056. The Old American Republic is desperate to hold the country from the British Invasion Force or BIF. When New Los Angeles falls, the American government will surrender to the British. In…" He snatched up the nearest newspaper. "A little over a month's time. This is the battle of Heidegger." She shot him a look. "Sorry, I occasionally name battles after philosophers so I can keep track in my head when battles have no real name. They'll go on to call it, The Day America Fell."

"That's horrible," Clara muttered, clinging to him a little tighter. "Can we go?"

"If you want," the Doctor smiled at her and she could sense the 'but' coming. "But it's perfectly safe. Today is a lull day. The Americans are rebuilding their lines and the British are just over the hill, preparing for their final assault. Even now, British spies are trying to infiltrate the city and the Americans are picking them off, one by one…" Clara was shooting him a filthy look now. "What?"

"We're British, you giant idiot!"

"Oh…crap."

He sounded genuinely upset and then gunfire started coming in their direction. The Doctor grabbed Clara, pulling her behind the TARDIS and shouting: "No shooting. No guns. We're not here to shoot anyone!"

They were on the wrong side of the TARDIS and couldn't get round to the door. The gunfire stopped but neither of them dared stick their heads around to check if they were coming. Clara took a deep breath and then spotted someone lurking in the shadows. She frowned as the person hurled something over the TARDIS.

"Come on!" they hissed. "With me, now!"

Their accent was British and the grenade they hurled exploded behind the Doctor and Clara. The Doctor grabbed Clara's hand and dragged her after him as they ran through the undergrowth. They passed decrepit old buildings and the Doctor refused to let go of Clara's hand until they veered left and dived into one of them. The soldier was carrying a gun and dropped it, turning to stare at them.

"Who are you?" she snapped. Clara could barely tell it was a woman. She was covered up in khaki and camouflage gear, every inch of her bare skin smeared green with the baggiest clothing Clara had ever seen. Her hair was buzzed, barely an inch off of her scalp and she had a fierce scowl. But her face was feminine and looked familiar, as did her voice. The Doctor frowned as if he had heard it before and glanced at Clara. "Were you sent by the Embassy?"

"We're just travellers," Clara explained quickly with a warm smile, that the soldier didn't return. "This is the Doctor and I'm…"

"The Doctor? I was born to save the Doctor," said the soldier, as if on instinct. Clara gasped. Underneath the camo and the buzz cut, the soldier was…

"Clara?" the Doctor whispered.

"Lieutenant Clara Oswin. Soufflé division. Pleased to make your acquaintance Doctor. You look familiar," she said to Clara. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

They shared a look. One of Clara's echoes. The echoes that had been produced when she threw herself into his time stream to save him. The Doctor bit his lip and Clara took a deep breath.

"No, as I say we're not from around here," Clara said quickly. "We need to get back to that blue box as quickly as possible to get home. The Americans will think we're spies."

"And aren't you?" there was a tone of amusement in Lt. Oswin's voice and the Doctor shook his head.

"I'm not even British," he grinned and Clara elbowed him. "She's right though, that box is our way home, so we'll just be off back to it."

"No chance," Oswin scoffed and Clara felt a surge of pride run through her. "I'm not going to let the Doctor die on my watch by running into American territory. You can hole up here until the fighting is over and then you can go and find your box. I joined this army to find and protect the Doctor, the rumours say he ends up in battlefields. And here we are. I'm not letting you down. Either of you." She smiled at Clara and Clara smiled back.

Oswin took off her camouflage gear to reveal a white tank top and shorts. Clara had to admit, she was hot. She wondered if she'd suit the shaven, green look half as well and she could tell by the Doctor's eyes that he was questioning it himself. He seemed to catch himself and turned to Clara.

"You're my wife, not her," he whispered, as if she needed telling. She half wondered if he was telling himself. "She is gorgeous, but only because you're gorgeous."

Clara rolled her eyes. Oswin was making a makeshift bed and turned to them.

"You'll want to get some sleep. We can take it in turn to watch."

"Good idea," the Doctor replied cheerily. "I'll take first watch."

He was up to something, Clara could tell. Sure enough, no sooner was Oswin asleep than the Doctor shook Clara awake, a finger pressed to his lips.

"I will not have another echo dying because of me," he hissed. "We are getting out of here."

He picked her up and they left the disused building quietly. The Doctor soniced for signs of American activity and when it was clear, they moved swiftly through the undergrowth, quickly trying to get to the TARDIS. By the time they could see the big blue box, they were almost running and that was when the gunfire started again. The Doctor dragged Clara to the floor as three men ran over, firing weapons. They were looming over, picking their way through the undergrowth. It would be a matter of moments before they were on top of the Doctor and Clara.

He kissed her head, one final goodbye she sensed. Then, one of the men dropped like a sack of potatoes as Lt. Oswin burst through the undergrowth, firing wildly and screaming. The Doctor was on his feet, not even bothering to drag Clara as he snatched her up into his arms and carried her, despite her protests. Shielding her with his body, the Doctor ran as Oswin distracted the men. More Americans peeled over the horizon, focusing on Oswin who was making unearthly noises. She took five men before one of them got a shot in her chest and she went down. Clara yelled in anguish but the Doctor covered her mouth so only he heard. He dived into the TARDIS as the gunfire changed tact and then he slammed the doors, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Doctor!" Clara cried out, tears streaming down her face. "We can't just leave her! This is my fault."

"No Clara," he replied brusquely. "It's mine. I'm the one she died for. I'm the one you all died for. And it's not fair. There's nothing we can do Clara and I will not open those doors so that you can die too. Promise me Clara, promise me that you will not give your life for me the way that she did."

"Doctor," Clara opened her mouth and closed it.

"Promise me!" he yelled and she glared at him.

"No!" she shouted, tearing up. "How could I possibly promise that, knowing that you would give your life for me or anyone else in a heartbeat. I died a million times over for you Doctor, one more death isn't going to make any difference."

"It is to me!" he roared and Clara shut up. "Without you Clara, I don't want to live," he snapped. "I'm on my last life and it's running out. The life I have with you will be the last life I get and I don't want you to end yours prematurely on my account. Because if you do, I'll have nothing left to live for. So promise me. Please."

"Doctor," Clara whispered. "I'm sorry. But I can't."

"I know," he replied, his voice deathly quiet. "Let's just go home…"


	42. Dark Clara

***So this one is for whouffletothemax and is called: Dark Clara. This isn't Transitions based and is set after TOTD, so it's 12/Clara (sort of) and obviously it's a dark one and there will be some violence. I really hope you guys enjoy it. Another, much lighter one, up in an hour or so. TPD***

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><p>Clara Oswald heard the knock at the door. She let out a small smile at the thought of it being the Doctor. She scurried over and opened it, only to find that it wasn't the Doctor at all. Stood on her doorstep, he was all black leather and a fierce smile and anger and hatred in his eyes. His slicked back hair was jet black and greasy and he was about as far away from the Doctor as it was possible to get. She swore at the sight of him.<p>

"Get inside," she hissed. "Now. What if someone sees you?"

"Then I'll kill them," he replied, no menace in his voice but it still sent a shiver down Clara's spine. He might as well have been commenting on the weather. "Hello Clara."

"Master," she replied, a small smirk appearing on her lips and she reached up to kiss him. She dragged him inside the apartment and giggled as he looked around distastefully. "Are you here to check in on me or could you not wait until the task was finished?"

"Clara Oswald, my beautiful Clara," he replied smarmily. "I'm here because of you. I'd be dead if you hadn't rescued Gallifrey. I knew having you tag along with the Doctor would prove of use. I didn't quite realise how useful."

"The Time Lords?" Clara asked.

"Still trapped," the Master replied distastefully. "Only I could slip through the crack before the Doctor found out about them. I hear you saved him as well, got him a new set of regenerations. You are on fire my dear. Thirteen regenerations to steal off the Doctor. It's like Christmas has come early."

"He's a feeble old man now," Clara said with a smile. "And he completely believes that I love him. He's head over heels in love with me. And now that you're back, it won't be long before I can lead him into the trap. You give me the time and place and I'll get him there."

"Oh Clara," the Master laughed. "Dear sweet Clara. This is the time and place."

And then the front door opened and the Doctor walked in, sonic in hand, his face thunderous as the Master grabbed Clara by the neck and Clara let out a small scream. She wasn't sure if the man she loved would kill her, but knowing him, it was very much a possibility. In truth, she should have seen this coming. The Master was not a man who you trifled with lightly. Still, if he wanted to try and kill her, Clara had a few tricks left up her sleeve, if she needed them.

"How could you?" the Doctor was growling and the Master raised his free hand and shrugged. "Not you!" he spat and Clara realised that he was staring straight into her eyes. He looked broken, angry and beyond upset. He knew. "I always knew Clara Oswald. The longer it went on, the less I wanted to believe it, but you have always been his man. Let her go Master."

"After she betrayed you?" the Master laughed. "You still care for her?"

"Always," the Doctor said quietly and Clara felt her heart stab with guilt, for probably the first time. "Now let her go and you can have what you came here for. Me."

"Your empathy disgusts me, Doctor," the Master laughed. "I already have you, I don't need to bargain with you."

And then he broke Clara's neck. She felt the jerk and she went down, but as she did so, the life leaving her body, she injected the Master with the anti-Time Lord poison that she had been saving for the Doctor. She wasn't doing this for the Doctor, but it would be good to foil the man who had ended her life.

They both hit the floor, the Master screaming in pain as Clara felt her life slip away. And there he was, the Doctor, desperately grabbing her, yelling her name. Screaming it, in his old, hoarse voice. She smiled smugly. The Doctor was going to lose everything. Looks like it was two Time Lords she had outwitted. Not bad for a stupid Earth girl. And then Clara Oswald died.


	43. Llama and Watermelon

***Welcome to the house of fun. I am so tired but only 4 hours til Arrow so I need to power through. This prompt was sent in anonymously on tumblr and frankly, I thought it was hilarious, so I only hope I've done it justice. Why is there a llama and a watermelon in the console room? I hope you enjoy! Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>"Doctor," Clara said quietly, a small smile creeping onto her face as she shut the TARDIS doors behind her gently. "Why are there a llama and a watermelon in the console room?"<p>

"Funny story!" the Doctor shouted back as he whizzed around the console, flipping switch after switch. "I needed your help, that's why I came to get you."

"I thought you said this mission was way too dangerous for me because of the baby?" Clara said with a smirk, patting her rounded belly. The Doctor rolled his eyes at this and flipped a couple more switches.

"Would I have let in here if it was?" he asked sarcastically and frowned at Clara's raised eyebrow and smirk. "You know I love you and baby Ellie more than anything. I just need your help with a completely menial, not even remotely dangerous task."

"What?" she asked, her smirk growing.

"Well, there's no way that the Llama People will kill me for accidently stealing their King if they see I have a pregnant wife!" the Doctor announced, looking very proud of himself as Clara's expression sank into despair and he pulled a face. "What?"

"You accidently stole the King of the Llama People?!" Clara said incredulously. "Why do you let you out alone again? Jesus I need to get a babysitter for you. Where's Jack when you need him. I get pregnant for five minutes and you've accidently stolen the King of the Llama People?"

"That is an accurate summation of events," the Doctor nodded. "Don't worry, I just need to drop him off home and then we'll be fine. As long as the Llama People don't come after us the second that they see the blue box landing. Anyway, how's home? How long was I gone?"

"Two minutes," Clara rolled her eyes. "I'd just opened a tub of ice cream. Why, how long were you gone?" The tone was deliberately accusatory.

"Not long," he replied vaguely, waving his hand. "Three days, tops." Clara's glare was so fierce he couldn't even see it and she could tell that he was wincing. "The Shadow Proclamation needed me to solve the Llama dispute!"

"By stealing their King?"

"Apparently!" the Doctor replied exasperatedly. "I took him to the Shadow Proclamation, the whole thing got straightened out. They vaporised him for his crimes."

"They vaporised him!" Clara squealed. "So what the hell is that?"

"That, Clara, is a llama," the Doctor replied exasperatedly. "Pay attention. If I go back empty handed they'll execute me. I need to convince them that that's their King. And they'll be more likely to believe me with my pregnant wife in tow."

Clara was fairly sure that she would burn a hole in the back of the Doctor's head if she glared any harder. She tapped her belly reassuringly. "So what is the watermelon for?"

"Well I don't want the poor thing to die of starvation do I?" the Doctor sounded genuinely irritated. "Any more stupid questions?"

"Just one," Clara was smirking again. "Where has the llama gone?"

The Doctor swore.


	44. Pregnant Body Swap

***Hey guys, another anon send in (keep them coming through review, PM or tumblr: whovianmachine) and this one asked for the Doctor and Clara to swap bodies during pregnancy. As ever, Transitions spoilers, I hope you enjoy it! Another Supernatural based prompt coming your way soon! :) TPD***

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><p>"I'm sorry," Clara was shouting. "For the millionth time!"<p>

The Doctor scowled at her as he slammed the TARDIS door shut behind him, furious. He stalked over to the console, running his hands through his hair and grimacing.

"It's so weird and flippy and short!" he groaned.

"Mine's flippy?!" Clara snapped. "Mine's flippy? Have you tried yours?" She twirled. "I can't even move without it whipping everywhere. Christ almighty why haven't you just chopped it all off?"

"You chop off my hair!" the Doctor warned. "And I'll chop off your…"

"Ahhh Clara!" Clara yelped. "My insides. My insides are on fire, it's like something's ripping apart my rib cage, what do I do? I think I'm dying. I think you're dying."

"That'll be the baby," the Doctor replied with more than a hint of irritation in his voice.

"How do you put up with it?" Clara groaned and immediately regretted it as the Doctor swooped over, poking Clara repeatedly in the chest as he said in a low and dangerous voice:

"That. Is. Your. Daughter."

"Sorry Ellie," Clara whispered. "Daddy loves you."

"How long is this going to last?" the Doctor grumbled as Clara waddled over to the console and started flipping levers and switches.

"Twenty four hours," Clara replied. "Owwww! Kicking! It's a local custom that married couples cannot truly appreciate each other until they've walked a mile in the other's shoes, so they transplant the consciousness from one body to the other as a wedding gift. No matter how long ago the wedding apparently and I swear to God if I get flicked in the face by your stupid hair one more time…"

"Christ," the Doctor staggered backwards. "I'm still not used to this. Two hearts, it's fucking weird."

"Imagine how I feel!" Clara yelled back. "I have one heart and a fucking baby inside me! There's a reason that I choose to never regenerate into a female you know, I'm not very good at taking care of my body, how am I going to cope with another Time Lord inside me?"

"I thought you said she probably wouldn't be a Time Lord?!" the Doctor screamed.

"Well yes but I can hope can't I?!" Clara screamed back.

"Is it really weird that I want to have sex with you right now?" the Doctor asked, still shouting.

"No, not really," Clara replied thoughtfully. "Even though your consciousness has been transplanted, it's still impossible to completely separate it from the biological urges of the body and seeing as my body is exceedingly attracted to yours, you see me in your body and you're turned on by your own body, because of my body. Except, when you put it that way, it is a little weird."

"Wow Doctor," the Doctor chuckled. "How do you manage it? I'm basically a pregnant whale but all I can think about is how beautiful I look and how much I want to play with my hair and kiss me and this is really getting weird now. Can't you do something?"

"Like what?" Clara threw up her tiny hands and spat out her own hair, glaring at it furiously. "How do I control this hair?!"

"Oh for God's sake, tie it up!" the Doctor yelled. Their voices had rarely been lowered throughout the entire conversation now. Clara pulled her hair into the worst ponytail known to man and the Doctor snorted at how terrible it was. Then, the TARDIS crashed to a halt and the Doctor and Clara were thrown off of their feet. "Are we home?"

"We're home Clara," Clara replied. "Let's go."

But they had both made the fatal mistake of forgetting exactly what was waiting for them outside the TARDIS. Dave smiled at them as they got out of the TARDIS and pulled Clara into a huge hug. She squealed as he did so and he looked confused.

"Clara! Why is he hugging me?" Clara cried.

"Because he thinks you're me you bloody great Time…"

"Do I even want to ask what the hell is going on here?" Dave stepped away from Clara and turned, frowning, to the Doctor.

"We swapped bodies!" the Doctor explained quickly. "And oh God the baby shower's in an hour isn't it? Doctor!"

"We have to shower our baby?" Clara sounded confused. "But Ellie's still in your stomach- ow! And she's being very impolite!"

"Well what the hell am I supposed to tell people?" Dave sounded exasperated. "Oh sorry, we have to cancel the shower, my daughter is stuck in her husband's body?"

"Forget about her!" Clara yelled. "She's got it easy, what with a dual-cardio system. I'm working on one heart, with a baby inside me. I'm dying here. Cramps. Cramps. CLARA WHAT IS GOING ON IN YOUR BODY?"

"I feel this is an experience all men should undergo," the Doctor mused with a grin. "Dad, can you tell them I'm feeling really ill or something, and ask them to come back tomorrow? We've got time right?"

"OH DEAR LORD MY STOMACH."

"Is he okay?"

"Ignore him, I put up with it on a daily basis he'll be fine."

"Clara Oswin Oswald…"

"Still not my middle name."

"We are never having sex again!"

"Your loss honey, not mine."

"Dave, do something!"

"Like what?" Dave asked, exasperated. "I'll get rid of them. Can you take care of the Doctor?"

"Are you kidding me?" the Doctor beamed. "I've got a day out of bed where I'm not dying of cramps or baby kicking pains! I'm going to have some fun."

"Clara, don't leave me!"

"I'll see you tonight baby! Let's see if your body can remember how to fly the TARDIS…"

"Clara!" Clara shouted, but the Doctor was already in the TARDIS and it was already dematerialising…


	45. Demon Hunting

***Demons. Demons. Demons. I've never watched Supernatural but I got sent in this prompt that the Doctor and Clara go demon hunting. I really hope you guys enjoy it and watch out, because Healing is now only two days away. More prompts tomorrow I promise. Keep sending them in! The Potter Doctor***

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><p>They had a mission. Altherin. It was a small village in the North-East of Scotland. Clara was excited, the Doctor was nervous. This was an inversion of their usual attitudes, but nevertheless, they trekked up there. It took them the entirety of the day to get there, even driving flat out, the open-topped Porsche racing down the old country roads. Every time that the Doctor turned a corner, she thought that that was it, and they were going to die. But every time, he'd keep it level, they'd veer back onto course and they'd shoot off down the next straight, like nothing had happened. They had no idea where the demon would be or who it had possessed, so they set up shop in an old B+B for the night. The Doctor paid for their room and Clara paid for the pizza that they ordered in. They were roughly the same price.<p>

When the pizza arrived, Clara threw the Doctor off the bed teasingly and he shot back up. They always paid for a double bed, as it was cheaper than a room with two singles and neither of them minded sharing. They'd shared beds so often, that if Clara was honest with herself, it felt weird not having him lying next to her at night. More often than not, they'd wake up much closer together than when they went to sleep, but neither of them said anything about it. The Doctor certainly never would. Clara had been the Doctor's best friend for as long as she could remember, but they rarely talked personal. They never needed to. It was as if they knew everything that there was to know about the other, so nothing ever needed to be said. And yet, as they were sat side by side on the bed, their shoulders occasionally rubbing together and eliciting smiles from the pair of them, Clara realised how deeply she cared for the Doctor and how much she needed him to know that. She didn't know what made this mission special, except that if she died that next day, she wanted him to know how she felt.

"I love you, you know," Clara said suddenly, shattering the perfect silence that had been hanging between them, broken only occasionally by the Doctor's offensively loud chewing. He stopped chewing at this and looked at her with a look that was half affection, half confusion. He straightened his blood red bow tie and smiled at her.

"Of course I know," he replied. "You're like a sister to me Oswald. What's brought this on?"

"I never say it," Clara mused. "All this time I've known you, all this time we've been fighting demons together and all this time that you've cared for me and yet I never tell you how I feel. Which is that I care for you more than anyone or anything else in the entire world."

His smile grew and he pulled her into a hug that Clara never wanted to end before kissing the top of her forehead. She blushed despite herself and when he released her, there was a look in his eyes that Clara couldn't quite place.

"I love you too Clara. More than anything."

And that was it. No more words needed to be said. So they ate their pizza in silence, got changed into PJs and curled up in bed. The only other words that they said to each other were good night.

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><p>Clara woke in the Doctor's arms and, smiling at the thought of him, she rolled out of bed. She had barely had time to shower and change into her black leather demon hunting outfit when the Doctor was woken by a loud scream. Clara threw open the door, the Doctor several steps behind her, pulling on some shoes and grabbing his gear. They ran out into the street and after a few moments, came to a square where a woman was being levitated off the ground by a short teenage boy, his eyes black, his hand held out in a strangling motion. People were watching, but not acting.<p>

Clara was running towards him, the Doctor two paces behind her and the demon hissed, hurling the levitated woman at Clara. She ducked underneath the floating woman, but the Doctor couldn't get out of the way and they clattered, going down hard. Clara swore, she was on her own before the fight had even started. She pulled out a pack of salt and hurled it at the demon, hoping to shower it, but the demon boy raised his hand and the salt stopped mid-air. It shot back at Clara, ten times faster than she'd thrown it and it sliced her skin, razor sharp, opening up cuts on her cheeks and arms as she raised them to defend herself. Behind her, the Doctor was disentangling himself and Clara heard him chanting in guttural Latin, desperately trying to send the demon back to hell. Clara rolled left as the demon launched itself at her and she got in a couple of good punches. She had an iron dagger but she didn't want to use it. Stabbing the boy who was possessed was not her prerogative. The Doctor was up now, only for him to fall flat on his face as the demon used its telekinesis to shoot a nearby spade at the Doctor's legs. Clara jumped on it, screaming in Latin and the words burned it. It punched her in the face and the blow sent Clara spinning, her head throbbing and she was seeing stars.

The Doctor was on his feet again and Clara smiled at this as she recovered, but one punch from demon boy and the Doctor was out cold. Clara rolled her eyes and this sent another pain shooting through her temple. Maybe this was it. The day they died. The demon screamed in a language Clara didn't understand and she kept on sending out quick fire Latin, desperate to force it from its host. It laughed at this, almost as if it was too powerful. Suddenly, Clara found herself unable to speak, her voice catching in her throat as the demon lifted her. She felt her throat constrict and her left hand somehow found the iron dagger. She knew that it was her only hope and she would have to do it, if she wanted to live. She flung the dagger and it shot straight into the demon boy's chest. The roar it let out stung Clara's ears and she dropped the ten feet she'd been levitated. She felt her ankle break as she landed and swore. That was going to sting for a while. The demon boy screamed and black smoke erupted as he turned to dust. Clara hung her head. She'd had to kill the boy to save herself, the Doctor and everyone else. So why did she feel so guilty?

She could hardly walk, let alone carry the Doctor back to the hotel, so she ended up crawling over to him and slapping him gently in the face repeatedly until he sat up, groaning in pain and holding his pounding head. But his face lit up when he saw her.

"Still alive then?" he asked cheerfully. "And no demon in sight. We call that a win Oswald. Did you manage to save the boy?" She shook her head. He wrapped his arms around her. "Any injuries?"

"Broke my ankle," she replied quietly. "And my head feels like it's going to explode."

"Mine too," he confessed, helping her to her feet. "Come on, let's get out of here."

She was glad that she had told him how she felt, because in that moment, when she'd been strangled and thought she was done, she realised she had come to accept her death, in the knowledge that at least she had told him how much he meant to her. Everything.


	46. The Morning After

***Good evening True Believers! This prompt was asked anon on tumblr and asked for the Doctor and Clara to wake up in bed naked with rings on. I can only imagine how that would go down, but here is my best guess. All the Whouffle in this one and it's slightly smutty. Another prompt, fluffy as shit, up soon, so keep your eyes out and tomorrow is the Big One... The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Clara's head was stinging. It was as if she had been trodden on by a rhino or something. She fumbled on her bedside table for the glass of water and aspirin that she customarily left there before a night in in case she needed it the next morning and downed in hungrily, desperate to stop the throbbing in her head. This was entirely the Doctor's fault of course. He'd been all: "Ohh I know, let's go check out the bars of Thrastathradien IV, they're the best in the galaxy!" and now here she was, with the mother of all hangovers. She felt something cold brush against her bare back and she froze. She was naked, but that wasn't an issue for her, she often slept naked after a night out. But what was an issue was what had touched her. She turned slowly, breathing heavily and then when she saw what was in the bed with her, she screamed.<p>

The Doctor woke with a start. He sat up instantly at stared at Clara. The horror in his eyes as he came to the same realisation that she did broke her heart. He opened his mouth and then shut it again and then pointed at Clara, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly.

"Breasts," he said eventually and then covered his eyes with his hand and the same time as Clara let out a little squeal and her hands went to cover her chest, mortified.

"Turn around!" Clara hissed angrily and desperately, completely and utterly humiliated with no idea what to say or do. All she knew was that she needed to get clothes on. The Doctor turned, humming a little tune nervously and all that achieved was making Clara want to strangle him. She quickly pulled on a bra and underwear and then zipped her onesie over the top. She cleared her throat and he turned back round. "Where's your underwear?"

Clara didn't mean to talk so sharply to the Doctor but she felt like she had no other choice. She had to be cold and clinical and deal with this situation until she could process it emotionally.

"It's here," the Doctor said. "Next to a used con-oh!"

Well that eliminated the question of if they'd had sex. Clara had suspected that was the case anyway, she was getting vague flashback memories, one of which was her in unbridled ecstasy, the likes of which she had never experienced before. Even so, part of her had wanted more than anything for her to have not had sex with the Doctor. Not that she hadn't thought about it in the past, but her first time with him should have been more…special. She hated herself for such cliché thoughts. The Doctor was wearing boxers now, but he couldn't hide his erection. She felt both touched and disgusted and he looked ashamed as he limped towards the door. Then Clara spotted something on his hand.

"Doctor?" she asked her voice dangerously close to breaking and he winced upon hearing it. "What is that on your finger?"

"Oh this?" he looked at it and laughed breezily. "It's just a Thrastathradien wedding ring! Nothing to concern yourself over. Oh look, you have one too. Isn't that cute, we match Clara. Clara?"

His voice had been excruciatingly high and Clara looked so angry that she was about to commit murder. Technically genocide, seeing as the Doctor was the last of his kind. She took a deep breath and walked over to him, prodding his chest dangerously.

"We're married?" she sounded like she was going to explode.

"Little bit," the Doctor replied. "And since we consummated it, the rings won't come off. Fascinating story, once two people consummate their marriage, the rings bind to their skin genetically, so that there's no chance for the two to get a divorce. Isn't that genius?"

Clara punched him. Hard. The Doctor staggered back as she started yelling.

"So what? So we're married? Like totally forever married with no chance of a divorce? Well you can forget about it Mister, because if you think that I want to spend the rest of my life with you then you can go and…"

But she'd stopped shouting now and had started kissing him. The Doctor flailed for a moment and then settled into the kiss, her touch electrifying. They fell back onto the bed and, for the second time in a number of hours, ended up consummating their new marriage.


	47. Valentine's Day

***Hey troops I know it's a bit early, but this is a Valentine's Day prompt that I hope you guys enjoy. Lot's of fluffy whouffle. See you guys tomorrow for more prompts and Healing. The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Clara Oswald hated Valentine's Day. She had never enjoyed it, not since she was a little girl. When she was seven, all the boys in her class had written her a card, so she had had to spend all day writing cards for each and every one of them so that nobody had felt left out. This hideous process seemed to continue, year on year and as she got older, the romantic gestures from creepy blokes got more and more disturbing. Then she turned 16 and lost her mum and suddenly they stopped. Other than a boyfriend she'd had in her early 20s, nobody had showed the slightest interest in her, especially on Valentine's Day. Until this year. Clara was up at 8am, expecting to be woken by the doorbell frantically ringing as her boyfriend turned up. This didn't materialise and for a moment, Clara was slightly disappointed that he'd either forgotten or was running late. He had a tendency to do both and get his timing all mixed up. Then, she heard someone swearing from the kitchen and smiled slightly. He'd let himself in.<p>

Clara headed through to the kitchen, wearing her red and fluffy dressing gown. Sure enough, the Doctor was in there, beaming at her as she entered. He was frying something. Clara went over and kissed his cheek gently, wrapping her arms around him.

"What's for breakfast?" she asked cheerily.

"Fish fingers and custard," he grinned. "Your favourite!"

"That's your favourite."

"Same thing."

Clara laughed at this and kissed him again before he shooed her out of the kitchen and through to the lounge, where a cup of tea was waiting for her on the table and a giant blue box was sitting in the middle of the room. Clara raised her eyebrows but didn't comment, she'd been expecting it.

"I used the TARDIS atmospheric systems to make sure that the ambient temperature of the room was perfect to keep your tea at the optimum temperature," the Doctor said smugly. "And before you ask how you didn't hear her, I roasted the power cells to put her on silent, had to ditch the swimming pool but I'm sure it'll turn up. Now then, fish fingers and custard for me and Clara's favourite, a sausage and bacon sandwich, with extra ketchup. I hand-picked the tomatoes myself from the finest tomato factory in the universe. I got tasered by the guards but it was totally worth it. Happy Valentine's Day Clara Oswald."

"Happy Valentine's Day Chin-Boy!" Clara giggled. "So what's on the agenda?"

"I'm glad you asked!" he beamed. "Eat up and then we can go and have a nice long hot bath. When we eventually manage to crawl out of bed, probably sometime around noon, then we can go out to lunch in Venice, overlooking the canals, in the year 1956, beautiful. Then, I have a special surprise for you; somewhere I've never been before. You'll love it! Oh don't give me that sceptical look, you will, I promise."

So Clara finished her breakfast, they went to take a bath and then, just as the Doctor had predicted, they crawled out of bed around noon. The TARDIS ached and groaned as it travelled, Clara wearing a gorgeous red dress that would probably show up everyone in the restaurant, the Doctor wearing a black tuxedo, with matching bow tie. Clara thought that he looked wonderful. The Doctor thought that she looked utterly ravishing.

Lunch was quite the affair. They laughed and joked and halfway through the meal, a waiter tried to poison their main course. The Doctor had sniffed it out immediately and it turned out that the waiter was an android in disguise and the Doctor had to stun him with his sonic and then hurl him over the balcony into the canal below them. Clara fixed her hair and makeup in the TARDIS as they got as far away from Venice in 1956 as they could.

"The food was exquisite," Clara pointed out, earning a laugh from the Doctor. "So, where to next? This surprise location of yours?"

"Indeed," the Doctor grinned. "Clara Oswald, welcome to Cascadia!"

Cascadia turned out to be a small asteroid, from which you could watch the stars fly by. The Doctor told her that it was the equidistant point between the four most beautiful spiral galaxy patterns in the universe and that once every million years, all four galaxies would align and the light from all four would create the single most beautiful display in the universe. It was a spot that was christened: The Heavenly Light Show.

"Any moment now," the Doctor said quietly. "We have the place to ourselves, I told everyone else that it was quarantined so that we'd get some privacy."

Clara giggled at that. And then the light shifted and it was the single most beautiful thing that Clara had ever seen. Red, blue, gold, yellow, green, all combining and shifting and moulding and she couldn't take her eyes off of it until the Doctor cleared his throat. She glanced at him for just a moment and her breath hitched in her throat. He was kneeling. Her head was swimming and she couldn't breathe, her eyes transfixed on the man she loved, down on one knee, with a ring box in his hand.

"Clara Oswald, will you marry me?"

"Oh my stars!" she murmured. "YES!" she screamed, the noise erupting from her uncontrollably. She'd forgotten all about the most beautiful sight in the universe, she had seen something better. "One million times yes. I love you so much."

"I love you too Clara Oswald. Until the end of time and back."


	48. Guilty Pleasures

***Hey guys! First prompt of maybe 3 or 4 today, I hope you guys enjoy. This one is based on guilty pleasures and Clara and the Doctor's guiltiest pleasures. I liked writing this, even if it's on the short side, so I hope you guys feel the same way. As ever, thanks for reading and please feel free to send it your own prompts :) TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was outside. She could hear him. Clara swore and tried to implement disaster protocol but the door opened before Clara had a chance to react. She was loathing the prospect of him seeing her like this but it couldn't be helped. Clara tried to at least hide the blanket but it was too late and he was already opening her front door with his sonic and stumbling into the front room.<p>

"Clara?" he shouted. "Are you alright? I heard crying and, and screaming and what on earth is that on your face and in your mouth?"

"Chocolate…" Clara mumbled with a soup spoon full of chocolate ice cream in her mouth. The entire lower half of her face was covered in the stuff, the slightly melted ice cream tub in her hand was almost empty and the soup spoon was still in her mouth. The Doctor, to his credit, looked more surprised than disgusted. Clara had managed to devour almost an entire kilogram of chocolate ice cream, sat under her Hello Kitty blanket, watching Desperate Housewives. She was having a guilty pleasures afternoon and God knows she'd needed it.

"I was watching Desperate Housewives," she admitted as she dropped the spoon in the empty tub and placed it on the table. "That's what the screaming was. And eating chocolate ice cream. A whole tub."

"But you have been crying," the Doctor said gently and Clara nodded. Her eyes were red and her face makeup free. Her hair was a bird's nest and she was wearing a baggy hoody and joggers below the blanket. "Why?"

"Darren dumped me," Clara grumbled. "I hate being all pathetic, but sometimes it's nice just to indulge yourself in some guilty pleasures, you know what I mean?"

"No," the Doctor replied. "Not really."

"You don't have any guilty pleasures?" Clara laughed. "Nothing that you enjoy that you know that you shouldn't?"

"Well," the Doctor frowned and settled down next to her. She offered him some of the blanket and he took it and now they were sat side by side, Clara's eyes fixed on his face. "There is one…I mean it's a pretty big one but…"

"What is it Chin?" she asked cheerfully, nudging him with her shoulder.

"It's you Clara," he said with a smile and her jaw dropped, her mouth forming a little 'o'. "You're my guilty pleasure. Because I know I should let you get on with your life, but I can't resist coming back for you, every time. And more than that, I enjoy every moment with you in a way that…isn't healthy for me, you know what I mean? Because some day you'll be gone and I'll be alone and all I'll have is the memory of you."

Clara was quiet for a moment and then she leaned up and kissed his cheek. She settled, her head on his shoulder and then suddenly they were both shifting, slanting until they were lying side by side, the Doctor's arm draped around Clara.

"Thank you Doctor," Clara whispered. "You always know just what to say."

"It's my pleasure Clara Oswald. My pleasure."


	49. Monk

***Hello everyone! This prompt is for whovianwrites, who requested that the monk outfit make a triumphant return! I took this prompt and it ended up being a smut prompt, so I hope you guys enjoy it regardless :) Keep sending them in and Healing is on its way any minute! TPD***

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><p>Clara was getting a severe sense of déjà vu. The door was being hammered on, Artie and Angie were out and she was all alone in the house. But that wasn't what was giving her a sense of déjà vu. No, that was coming from the monk stood on her doorstep. She rolled her eyes at the Doctor and let him inside as he shot her a warm smile as he pulled down his hood. She wasn't even going to ask. As much as she wanted to know exactly why he was dressed as a monk, it would give him great satisfaction and she couldn't bring herself to give it to him. He looked eager but when she offered him a cup of tea, without commenting on the monk style dress clothing, he frowned a little.<p>

"Aren't you going to ask?" he grinned as she poured the boiling water. "What's with the monk look?"

"No," Clara said with a smile, laughing internally as this successfully wound him up further. "I assume you have a good reason for it."

"Well, yes, but I wanted you to ask!" the Doctor cried and Clara rolled her eyes.

"Of course you did sweetie," she replied with a warm smile and kissed his cheek. "Why do you think I haven't asked?" He grumbled at this. "Go on then, what's with the monk?"

"I'm taking you to a monastery!" he grinned. "Or at least, I was planning to, then I remembered that they don't allow women entry…"

"Sweet of you," Clara smirked. "So why didn't you change out of it?"

"Well," the Doctor was blushing now. "I was feeling a bit nostalgic and I wanted to recapture the moment that we first met. I thought it would be all romantic and such…"

"What are you wearing underneath that monk outfit?" Clara asked teasingly, moving closer to him and nibbling his ear. He shuddered under her touch. He turned to face to her and kissed her gently.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he gasped. Evidently she did, as she kissed him harder this time. The Doctor swept Clara into his arms and she squealed as he stood up, with her in his arms like a child, their kiss continuing. He took the stairs two at a time and Clara giggled as they staggered into Clara's bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, hovering over her, and then she started unbuttoning her blouse. It was gone in moments, as the Doctor stripped Clara completely, leaving her naked before him.

"Patience Chin," she giggled. "I still need to see what's underneath those robes."

"Nothing," he whispered so gently that it sent a shockwave through her body. They were kissing again now, and Clara's hands shot under the robes to confirm that he was in fact wearing underneath them. As she grabbed him, she felt him harden and she smiled underneath the kiss. She started rotating, her hand moving quickly and the Doctor gasped as he struggled to keep himself in check. His own hand slid inside Clara and she let out a moan. His lips had moved to her neck and Clara's eyes rolled into the back of her head as he pleasured her.

Suddenly, the robes were gone, the hands were removed, and he was inside her, every thrust filling Clara with unbridled joy. She screamed out loud as he drove her past the point of no return and then he finished inside her and pulled out, rolling to one side, groaning heavily and repeating her name over and over again.

"Please dress as a monk more often!" Clara laughed.

"Anything for you Closwald."


	50. Susan's Grandmother

***This is a prompt for a wonderful anon on tumblr who suggested the possibility that an echo Clara met the Doctor on Gallifrey and fell in love with him. So in my mind, one of Clara's echoes met the Doctor and became his wife. This is my story of how the Doctor went from an 8 year old staring into eternity to ending up jumping on board the TARDIS with Susan, his granddaughter. These are all my thoughts and hopefully I've not buggered up canon too badly. In any case, I hope you enjoy it because who doesn't love a bit of Origiwin?! The Potter Doctor***

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><p>If the Doctor had to pinpoint the exact moment that he grew completely disillusioned with Gallifreyan society, it was the day that he met Soufflé Girl. She was sat two rows in front of him in the Academy and he loathed every second of it. But when she shot him a smile and he mimicked shooting himself in the head, he felt himself with a kindred spirit. Then, she laughed out loud and everyone else in the class stared at them, as if they didn't understand. What could possibly be wrong with Time Lord society? This was the year that the Doctor finally left the Academy for good, and it was mainly because of her.<p>

After class that day, she followed him out onto the blood red grass, shooting him an odd look. He stopped, waiting for her and when she caught up with him, she prodded him in the arm and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Are you for real?" she asked, falling into step alongside him. The way she walked was glorious, as if every step was a skip. And she wore very strange clothing, trousers made of an odd material that was very brusque and coloured navy blue and her top half was covered in baggy red material. She looked most ineloquent and not like a Time Lord at all. The Doctor loved it. She was smiling and he chuckled.

"Yes, I'm for real," he said. "I'm the Doctor."

She snorted at this. "Sanctimonious prick," she laughed. "Only a Time Lord could think that calling themselves the Doctor was the sort of thing people should do. You're going to what? Help people? Doctor isn't a title you assign yourselves; it's a title you earn."

"And I will earn it," he insisted. "I'm getting out of here, off Gallifrey, first chance I get. I will help people."

"Ha!" the girl laughed. "Good luck with that. You really think the Time Lords will let someone leave Gallifrey and help people? We're observers; we must never interfere with other people or planets. We're not even allowed to go to them, apparently we gain more knowledge watching from afar."

"Well I think that's wrong," the Doctor told her and she raised an eyebrow so high it disappeared among her dark hair. "The universe is a magical place, why are we all being cooped up here on Gallifrey when there's a whole universe to explore?"

"I don't know," she replied. "My name's Soufflé Girl. Because my aims, Doctor, are much more modest than yours. What's the point in trying to act like I'm something special when all I want to do is make a decent soufflé? I don't care about the Transdimensional blah blah. I just want to make my mum proud."

"So do I," the Doctor riposted. "She's a healer, one of the best. She's a regeneration expert."

"What's the point of a healer?" Soufflé Girl laughed and the Doctor felt slighted. "Nobody ever gets hurt on Gallifrey. Nobody ever dies. We occasionally do something stupid and have to regenerate and then someone like your mum is helpful to guide us through it, but none of us are stupid. I bet I could regenerate with no practice."-

"I'd like to try that," the Doctor admitted. "That's why I've not been to a single regeneration practice class. What's the point in learning how to control it? It's much more fun when you have no idea what's coming."

"So if you don't believe in healers, why call yourself the Doctor?" Soufflé Girl enquired and he shrugged.

"Because Doctors actually help people," he admitted. "And all healers do is guide idiots through a process that they should be able to do blindfolded so that they can live for another few millennia. It's all so pointless and mundane. A real Doctor, now he would be able to do some good. Go out there and help people who really need it, not stuffy old Time Lords."

"I like the way you think," Soufflé Girl admitted. "Could you tell my parents that? They think I should stop baking and do something useful with my life, like become a librarian in the Great Library or some shit like that."

"You don't like books?" the Doctor probed and Soufflé Girl laughed.

"I love books," she admitted. "But I don't want to spend the next 10,000 years or however long I end up living sorting through them. I imagine I'd waste regenerations just to be rid of it all. I want to do things I love, with people I love."

The Doctor decided that he liked Soufflé Girl very much.

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><p>They were together for almost fifty years before he proposed. She had accepted of course, on the proviso that they made it off Gallifrey together one day. He had spent his life trying to work out a way off of the planet, but he had no desire to join the High Council and they were the ones in control of the TARDIS's. Even the idea of getting into bed with everything he despised curdled the Doctor's skin. Soufflé Girl loved him regardless and they were very happy together, in their little corner of Gallifrey, him helping those members of society that weren't qualified for regeneration, her baking soufflés. When they had their first and only child, everything changed. The Doctor dedicated his life to his daughter and gave her everything he had. He would have sacrificed all of his regenerations for her, but sadly that wasn't to be the case. He couldn't be there when his daughter died at the very young age of 70, giving birth to her daughter, Susan.<p>

The Doctor took Susan under his wing, determined more than ever that he would get Susan and Soufflé Girl off of Gallifrey. Then, came his chance. There was a position open at the faulty TARDIS repair shop and he took it. Determined to smuggle them out, he let them in late one night, so that the three of them could run away. But things went wrong. There were guards. And she didn't make it.

"Doctor," she gasped as the door closed behind the three of them. The Doctor was an old man now, nearly 200 and his body was failing him. "Doctor, you and Susan have to go, now."

"I won't," he informed her. "Not without you."

"Please," Soufflé whispered. "I have to do this. I have to die, for you. I was born for this. I was born to save the Doctor." Her voice was cracking. "Their bullets were laced with the poison of the Judas Tree. I can't regenerate, not now. But you need to go. Both of you. Please."

"Soufflé…"

"Clara," she said suddenly and the Doctor frowned. "I know it seems simple but my real name is Clara. It's the only thing I know. That and that I need to die so that you can live. So run. Run you clever boy. And remember me."

Susan grabbed the Doctor and pulled him towards the TARDIS repair shop. They were about to step into one when someone caught his attention.

"You're about to make a big mistake."

It was her. Soufflé Girl. Clara. A hologram of her anyway. The faulty TARDIS must have produced her.

"The navigation system is knackered but you'll have much more fun."

And he did. Oh boy did he. And he ran. He ran, and he was a clever boy but most importantly, he lived up to the name. He became the Doctor.


	51. Super Dad

***Hey everyone! Did someone say Souffez baby fluff? Well who am I to turn down such an offer? Anyway, as the title might suggest, this one is based around the Doctor as a father and is set in the Transitions verse, so Ellie is making a reappearance. I hope you guys enjoy it! And keep sending in prompts, I'm almost down to single digits! TPD***

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><p>Clara was at work. Clara was always working, the Doctor had decided, it was as if she worked five days a week at the school. She had been very determined that she could not go back if he wanted, but the Doctor had pointed out that he was only working at the school to keep himself occupied while Clara was there and that he had never needed to work there, nor felt any particular inclination towards it. And now that Ellie was almost six months old, Clara had gone back to earning the money that apparently they needed, although the Doctor was sure that they would manage without it and the Doctor was left looking after his daughter for most of the day. And boy did she know how to work him up. The Doctor spoke baby fluently, but Ellie was very obstinate and ignored 90% of what he said. He supposed it was different when his own child and he still couldn't convince her to call him dad instead of: 'person who never leaves me alone'.<p>

Ellie spent the entirety of one particular afternoon screaming for Clara. Nothing that the Doctor could say to her would convince her that Clara was coming home or indeed that the Doctor was there to take care of her. After what seemed like hours, Ellie's screams had descended into bawls so incomprehensible, even the Doctor couldn't for the life of him decipher what she meant, except the word 'mum' came up occasionally. Eventually, the Doctor decided to resort to dirty tactics and utilise the internet for help. Ellie was too old for his old crib, so she had her own crib, much bigger, just about big enough for the Doctor as well. So when he found a video online of a man climbing in with his child, the Doctor figured that at this point, he was willing to try just about anything.

"Okay Ellie," the Doctor grimaced and straightened his bow tie. "Here we go. Geronimo."

And then he clambered in alongside her. She stopped crying as he curled up beside her, wrapping his body around hers, so that she was completely shielded from the world. She started playing with his jacket and he giggled alongside her and then, before either of them knew it, they were both drifting off.

And that was how Clara found them, hours later when she traipsed in from teaching. She smiled at them lovingly and crossed the room in the blink of an eye. She stroked a finger down the side of the Doctor's face, lovingly working her way down to his giant chin. His eyelids fluttered open and he gazed up at his loving wife.

"Clara," he said quietly.

"Hello super dad," Clara whispered, trying not to wake Ellie. "How're my two favourite people?"

"She was screaming for you all day," the Doctor informed her. "So I climbed in with her. I saw a man do it on the Youtube thing."

"You're the best," she kissed him as he sat up, careful not to nudge his sleeping baby. "If you can drag yourself away from Ellie for ten minutes, then I think you can collect your reward."

"Well Mrs Doctor," he smirked. "Is that an offer?"

"Oh yes," Clara replied. "Exclusively for super dads. I love you."

"I love you too," he replied. "But I think I'd rather stay with Ellie for a bit longer. Go and shower, I'll join you soon."

"Okay super dad," Clara's smile grew. "See you soon."

Ellie tugged at the Doctor's jacket in her sleep and he sighed happily. This was the life.


	52. The Period Planet

***Hey guys, so the amazing Counting Sinful Stars asked for a prompt where Whouffle go to a planet where women are held in esteem because of their ability to make men feel their time during their time of the month. I thought this was a great prompt but I took it in a slightly different direction than I think she was expecting, but I hope you all like it and think that I did a good job :) TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was a giant child at heart. Clara had known it since the day that they had met, when he had pitched up on her doorstep, wearing a monk costume, making jokes about his "mobile phone" and asking her to repeat the phrase: Doctor Who? And her sense of his childishness never went away. Whether it was Halloween costumes, or baking soufflés or his childlike innocence of all things sexual (an innocence that Clara had managed to well and truly strip him off and he'd muttered something about now having done that for several hundred years), the Doctor was a twelve hundred year old, trapped in the body of a twenty year old, with the mind of a twelve year old. This stretched to many things, including the female menstruation cycle. The Doctor knew the biology of it all, but whenever Clara mentioned that she was on her period, he would blush, stutter hysterically and drop her home, popping back the following Wednesday. Later on, when their relationship had developed, he would take to staying with her during those days, being as attentive and loving as the Doctor could be which was a lot. When they moved in and got engaged, she stopped mentioning it, because he could almost pick up on it, so keenly intuited to her was he. This only improved after the wedding.<p>

One day, while they were in the middle of a TARDIS trip that had already last five days, they came to land on a planet that the Doctor didn't recognise off the top of his head. They found the nearest city and found that it was heavily populated with a race that appeared what the Doctor called Class 3, capable of interstellar travel. This enabled the Doctor to determine that they were on Bhestry, a planet where the females had the ability to make their male partners feel pain when they were on their periods. This ability fascinated Clara beyond belief and she spent the next week or so, even when they landed back home, bugging the Doctor about it. He told her that there was nothing he could do to give it to her and that he wouldn't if he could. Even so, after weeks of pestering, the Doctor took Clara back to Bhestry. He knew that she was on her period and that it was a very bad idea, but he took her anyway, because he loved her and because he knew that there was no way she could develop a genetic trait of a certain species.

However, when they got there, the Doctor and Clara met the Queen of the Bhestres, and the Doctor let out a very loud, very long curse. It was Clara. Well, specifically a Clara echo, but nevertheless Clara Oswald. Sure enough, things kicked off from there and the Great Intelligence tried to lead an overthrow of the female dominated hierarchy and make them subservient, and in doing so quash their ability to project their pain onto men. Of course, the Doctor stopped him and Clara's echo died in the process. The Doctor became somewhat of a hero and then they headed home.

They were sat in bed that night and Clara was giving the Doctor an odd look. He looked at her and she frowned.

"What is it Clara?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing," she said. "It's just, after all this, after everything, another echo dying. And I feel selfish. Because all I wanted was for you to feel what I feel. To feel my pain, just for once. Just this once, to understand what I go through, so you'd look at me differently."

"Clara," the Doctor smiled. "There is nothing on this Earth that will make me respect you more than I already do. But if that's what you really want, then come here."

He pulled her in closer and he pressed his forehead gently against hers. Their heads touched and the Doctor felt pain shooting through him. He fell back, gasping in pain and Clara looked horrified.

"How the hell do you manage this?!" the Doctor cried. "It's like my stomach is ripping itself apart! Clara, make it stop, Clara?!"

She giggled. Sometimes even the Doctor could surprise her. In more ways than one.


	53. Vortex Manipulator

***Right, so this is by far the longest prompt I've produced and one that I like a lot. This is set between Day of the Doctor and Transitions but it is in the Transitions universe (or not, if you'd prefer). Clara keeps hold of the vortex manipulator that she gains in Day of the Doctor. This was sent in anon on tumblr, but if you're reading, thanks for a great prompt! Also, two cool pieces of personal knowledge. Blue Lagoon is my favourite cocktail. And also, elements of this story are adapted from one drunken night where a friend of mine couldn't stand up and I dragged her home in the rain and we kept ending up on the muddy ground. Keep sending them in guys! TPD***

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><p>In amongst all the chaos, the Doctor had forgotten to ask about the vortex manipulator. It was a perfectly honest mistake, Clara supposed, particularly given the way that the day ended up going. It was only afterwards, when they eventually made it to the Moon for cocktails that he ended up bringing it up. They had had a very long day and Clara was most definitely in the mood for cocktails. Frankly, the fact that someone had had the audacity to open a cocktail bar on the Moon was beyond her. But she had really missed the Doctor and in amongst all the chaos of the day, they hadn't really had a chance to catch up. Not that there was much to catch up on.<p>

"So," the Doctor said after their third pitcher of Blue Lagoon. "I meant to ask when you crashed into that prison cell but frankly, the fact that it wasn't locked was too astounding. Plus we were interrupted by Zygons and Daleks and saving Gallifrey, which I never thanked you for properly Clara. You saved Gallifrey. You saved me." His voice had broken. "You showed me who I am. Not the man who kills, but the man who saves. I am the Doctor but I wouldn't be. Not without you. My Clara. Thank you."

"My pleasure," Clara said with a smile, kissing his cheek gently. "So, you were going to ask?"

"Vortex manipulator," the Doctor laughed and Clara could tell he was slightly tipsy as they ordered their fourth pitcher. She was too if she was being honest with herself. "What did you do with it after you landed in 1562? It's not been on your wrist."

"I pocketed it, in case the Zygons got their hands on me," Clara admitted with a small smile. "I wanted to keep it, in case I needed an escape route. Not that I was ever planning on leaving without you Chin!" she added with a grin, nudging him gently and causing him to almost fall off his chair. She pulled out the manipulator and handed it to him. "I thought there was only probably enough power for one trip anyway?"

"Ha!" the Doctor laughed, pulling out his sonic and waving it over the manipulator. "Vortex manipulators are feeble things. I can repair them in a heartbeat. Just ask River!"

Clara felt the River reference sting. The Doctor flinched as soon as he had said it and he looked at her. They locked eyes and she smiled, trying not to let it affect her. The Doctor was swaying slightly and Clara giggled at that.

"I'm sorry," he said gently, touching her shoulder carefully and Clara shrugged.

"What for? It's only River Song," Clara replied breezily, unable to shake the fact that her feelings for the Doctor were going to betray her at any second. He pulled her into a tight hug and kissed the top of her head.

"As I was saying," he smiled. "Vortex manipulators are child's play compared to a TARDIS, I've mastered the art of them but they're sodding useless things unless channelled properly. I'll take it off your hands and store it in the TARDIS for safe keeping."

He went to take it off of her but at that point, Clara did something very stupid. She was feeling tipsy enough before this point and still angry about the River reference, so as the Doctor reached for her, she pulled back, pulling the vortex manipulator from his grasp and slapping it on her wrist. The Doctor frowned and Clara grabbed the pitcher, opening up her throat and letting the vast quantity of liquid wash down as the Doctor watched, both impressed and horrified. Clara stood triumphantly and winked at him, before tapping her fingers over the manipulator.

"Clara!" the Doctor staggered to his feet. "What are you doing?"

Clara felt very drunk now, as the alcohol hit her hard. "Catch you later, Time Boy!" she giggled hysterically and then she disappeared into a puff of smoke. The bartender turned to the Doctor.

"Some girlfriend you got there buddy!" he muttered.

The Doctor didn't bother to correct him. He didn't have the time to convince random Moon bartenders that Clara was just his platonic friend that he had a huge crush on and went drinking with apparently and showed the entirety of time and space. His Clara. The Doctor was on his feet, staggering away; the alcohol in his system choosing this moment to attack him. He held it off; it was too important that he found Clara. She had no idea what the hell she was doing and that vortex manipulator could take her anywhere, even assuming it worked properly. Oh of course it would work properly, this wasn't a time for false modesty.

The Doctor clicked his fingers and the TARDIS doors flew open, as he was in no mood or if he was honest state for working the key. He stumbled in; throwing shut the doors behind him and straightening his bow tie as he reached the console and proceeded to hammer levers and switches.

"Come on old girl," he muttered. "We need to trace that vortex manipulator. We need to find Clara. Now."

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><p>Clara vomited the second she touched down. She hadn't had that effect the last time that she had used the vortex manipulator, but then she hadn't been hammered the last time that she had used it. She groaned, barely able to see as she staggered. She had no idea where or when she was, but it was dark. Whether it was night or just dark she couldn't tell as she stumbled, looking for something to hold onto. She strained her ears, suddenly desperate to hear the TARDIS noise as the Doctor found her. And he would find her. Playing hide and seek had seemed very funny at the time but now that Clara was hiding, she wanted more than anything to be found. He was coming, the Doctor was coming. He would find her. Clara lost her footing and went down in the mud. She felt the sludge splash against her face and arms and she spat a foul tasting thing. She frantically put her hand to the vortex manipulator, there had to be a return setting of some sort. But she couldn't think, none of the digits on the device made sense. Clara tried to stand and ended up slopping back in the mud. She started to cry, the alcohol taking hold of her emotions and she called for help, managing to push herself up to her knees. She tried to wipe mud from her cheek but her hands were as filthy as her face and it only made things worse. Then she heard a noise. But it wasn't the TARDIS. It was a guttural howling and Clara had a sickening feeling hit her stomach that wasn't caused by alcohol. She wasn't alone.<p>

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><p>The Doctor had a lock on Clara. At least he had a lock on her vortex manipulator, which he was praying was still firmly locked on Clara's wrist. He was saying her name out loud, under his breath, almost like an unconscious rhythm that he hadn't even realised that he had been making. He tried to stop himself but realised that it had been comforting. He loved Clara, truly loved her. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. He couldn't let anything happen to her. The TARDIS landed and the Doctor checked the scanner. They were in England, sometime before the Battle of Hastings. They were in the middle of nowhere and there were other things out there. Wolves, he reasoned. He was within a mile of Clara. He raced out of the TARDIS, setting his sonic to scan Clara's location. It beeped and the Doctor ran, leaving the beaten path, his boots splashing and splattering in the mud. He could feel himself losing balance but managed to right himself and ploughed on, the small beeping of the sonic his lifeline or more specifically Clara's. Then he heard them, somewhere in the distance. The howling of wolves. Three of them, if his ears were on form.<p>

They were closer to Clara than he was, the Doctor realised and upped his pace. The subtle whispering of her name had elevated to a desperate yell and if he strained, he could hear her screaming his name back. His ears were better than hers; she wouldn't know he was coming. The Doctor's strength left him and he resigned himself to the fact that he might have left it too late. But he thundered on, every sinew in his body aching and pushing him on, one single all-encompassing thought guiding him through the murk and muck. Clara.

Then, he reached a clearing and there she was, a small, delicate figure lying in the mud, almost unrecognisable to him. But she was Clara, he'd know her anyway, even drunk as a skunk and covered in prehistoric mud. There were three wolves as he had predicted and they were circling her, ready to go in for the kill. The Doctor flicked his sonic skywards and changed the setting. The sonic screeched, emitting a sound so awful that the Doctor could barely put up with it himself. Clara threw her hands over her ears, letting out a pitiful, drunken sob. The wolves howled and scattered, their prey forgotten as they ran from the horrible noise. The Doctor sighed in relief and fell to his knees, almost crawling over to Clara. She looked up at him and he pulled her into his arms. The only part of her face that he could see behind the cake of mud was her eyes, so big and brown and swirling and he wanted to kiss her. Right then. That was when it finally occurred to the Doctor exactly how much that he loved her and how much he wanted to be with her. But she didn't feel that way about him.

"Doctor?" she groaned. "I don't feel very well."

"That would be the litres and litres of alcohol you drank," he laughed. "Let's get you out of here."

After a moment or so, he picked her up, struggling for a moment. Then, his legs gave way and he tumbled over into the mud, Clara landing on top of him. The Doctor groaned. His head was fuzzy and Clara was leaning on painful places.

"Can we sleep here?" she muttered and the Doctor was sorely tempted to agree, but the wolves could return at any moment.

"I'd love to Oswald," he replied softly. "But we need to get you onto the TARDIS."

"I don't like the TARDIS," Clara sulked. "She's stupid."

The Doctor dislodged his quiff from the soggy dirt and looked at Clara, mud trickling down his face and she pouted at him.

"Please?" the Doctor said in a voice so gentle, it was as if he'd slapped her. "For me?"

Clara opened her mouth to argue and then nodded slightly. The Doctor wrestled for control of his body and managed, by some miracle, to pull Clara to her feet. Getting her back to the TARDIS was a nightmare, they kept losing all balance and falling back into the mud. Every time they fell, the Doctor found some new part of his body that was getting a brown bath. He loathed every second of the next hour as he half-dragged an almost comatose Clara back through the countryside, but he didn't think for a second about abandoning her. When they eventually made it back to the TARDIS, he heard her whining and shouted a very bad word at his machine. He was not in the mood for her to throw a strop about mud on the console floor. He tried to shake Clara awake, but she wasn't budging. Desperate, the Doctor pushed her onto his shoulders and fell to his knees before he could even take one step. He collapsed, all of his energy sapped, Clara lying motionless beside him. His breathing was ragged and hers was barely audible. But it was there. The Doctor took a deep breath, summoning up everything he had. He took one step up, then another. Now he was on his feet, he pulled Clara into his feet. This time he would not fall. He fell three times on the way out of the console room and each time, it was harder to pick himself up. But he would not give up.

"Hang in there Clara!" he shouted, as much to himself as to her. The TARDIS had moved Clara's bedroom closer to the console room and he practically fell into it. He stumbled and staggered and dragged and then they were in the shower. The Doctor barely had time to turn on the hot water before he passed out…

Clara woke with the hot water spilling over her head. She had a titanic headache and there were still patches of mud clinging to her clothes, skin and hair. She could barely move, but when she shifted, she felt herself collide with an unconscious Doctor. She smiled despite herself as his eyes flickered open upon her touch.

"Clara," he said, his voice surprisingly normal. "Are you alright?"

"Not even slightly," Clara replied hoarsely, her voice cracked. "But I suspect I'd be worse off if it wasn't for you. What happened?"

The Doctor laughed but he was clearly in pain. He managed to push himself into a sitting position and now he was shoulder to shoulder with Clara.

"Cocktails," he replied. "On the Moon."

"Next time we're going to Ancient Mesopotamia."


	54. Time Lady Clara

***Hello again intrepid adventurers in the 4th Dimension! The Potter Doctor here with one last prompt for the day! Clara and the Doctor return to Gallifrey and she is made a Time Lady in honour of her acheivements in helping the Doctor save Gallifrey during the Time War. Very fluffy, very soppy and frankly a poor representation of Gallifreyan society but there you go. I hope you like it anyway. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had never been happier. Clara could see it on his face. It was written on every part of his body, he was shining. He was a man in his element as he whipped around the TARDIS, flipping the levers at twice the normal pace and occasionally stopping to embrace Clara, either with a bone-crushing hug or a snog. She laughed every time as he'd occasionally make a shout of: "YES!" or fist pump screaming: "EVERYTHING'S COMING UP DOCTOR!"<p>

"I'm going home!" he said to Clara, the tears in his eyes reflected in hers. "After all these years, all of these disasters, I can finally be forgiven. I can finally see them again." Then he seemed to have a thunderstruck moment of panic. "Oh crap!" he said out loud. "I'll have to see them again. They're probably still pissed at me for the whole Timelock thing. Not to mention stealing the Moment. And stopping Gallifrey returning on at least two separate occasions. And then there's the time I ran away from Gallifrey in the first place, not to mention the reason I ran away. Plus, if they're not stupidly angry with me, they'll probably want to make me Emperor or something." Clara snorted at this. "What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Clara replied hurriedly. "It's just…you shouldn't be running anything. I can't imagine you being a good Emperor of a lemonade stand, let alone an entire planet. I'll be there," she added seriously. "Right by your side. Whatever goes down, I won't let them take this old girl from you or lock you up or take your regenerations or whatever they want to do. Not after everything we've been through. I love you. My Doctor."

"And I love you too," he replied, kissing her forehead and straightening his bow tie. "My Clara. Now come on, I need a new regeneration cycle, this old body isn't going to last forever you know!"

"That's funny," she giggled. "I thought it would."

The Doctor kissed her forehead and then the TARDIS came to a halt. This was it. Gallifrey. The Doctor turned to Clara, joy and fear in equal measure on his face as he took a deep breath and took her arm. She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged in reply. The truth was, this was as much her victory as his and he wanted her to enjoy it. They stepped out of the TARDIS arm in arm and they were met by cheers and laughs and confetti. It was the most un-Time-Lord thing that the Doctor had ever seen. They were at the end of a very long corridor, lined with civilians and children. They were the ones cheering. The High Council of Gallifrey stood at the end of the corridor, on top of a small stage and even the most old and weary among them had managed a smile. The Doctor practically dragged Clara behind him as they raced down the procession. He suddenly jerked to a halt and Clara found herself stumbling behind him, still holding onto his hand for dear life.

"Clara Oswin Oswald," he said, his voice barely above a whisper and cracking from emotion.

"That's not my middle name!" she said with a smile.

"This…" he was crying now. "This is…"

He couldn't finish. He was breaking down, pulling the woman in front of him into a hug. She was tall, blonde hair streaked with grey, and wearing traditional Gallifreyan dress, with a single red rose attached to the collar. She was looking at the Doctor the way that Clara had never seen anyone but one person look at her. The look in her eyes said everything that it needed to say. Clara didn't ask how they recognised each other, as they had obviously both changed faces since they'd last met. She didn't need to ask, she would always know the Doctor when she saw him, even if he didn't have the same puppy dog face that he currently held. Even if he wasn't HER Doctor.

"This is your mother," Clara finished quietly and smiled, her eyes glistening. The Doctor turned back to her. "Clara."

"Pleasure," she said in a deep, intricate voice that seemed to be struggling with the words. "You're speaking English, Puppy." Clara didn't call him up on the nickname. "She's an Earth girl then? You always had a thing for Earth girls."

"She's the best of them," the Doctor replied with a smile, shooting Clara a glance. His mother said something in Gallifreyan and the Doctor replied with a smile and a few quick words before turning back to Clara. "Give the TARDIS a minute, she's a bit slow but the translation matrix will kick in. It's not used to being able to translate Gallifreyan."

Clara suddenly understood all the chatter, coming at her from every end of the hall. Some of it instantly made her insecure, some of it proud and some of it terrified. She immediately clutched onto the Doctor's arm like her life depended on it and then the Head of the High Council cleared his throat and both the Doctor and Clara turned back to him, his mother falling back into the crowds.

"Doctor!" he greeted.

"General," the Doctor replied, his voice slightly stiff and Clara's grip on his arm tightened. Then, the General burst into a huge grin and the Doctor sighed in relief and they completed the short walk up to the stage.

"You saved us," he said and the entire hall fell silent, watching them. "You saved Gallifrey again. How can we ever repay you?"

"Thank you," the Doctor said quietly. "But I didn't save you." There was a series of hushed whispers. "This is Clara Oswald. She is my…everything." He looked at her with a look so different from that moment, as if Gallifrey itself fell away around then and she was the only one there. "And she saved Gallifrey. I was ready to burn it, because I thought there was no other way. But Clara stopped me and reminded me that there is always another way. She's the one who found Gallifrey, almost sacrificing herself in the process of opening the door. Clara is the one you should be holding in such high esteem. Not me. I'm just her handyman. I'm just her Doctor."

"Well then, Clara Oswald," the General turned to Clara and she immediately felt like a 5 year old girl in the head teacher's office. "It seems that our planet owes you. What is it that you require? We can give you anything my dear. Gold, riches, power. But I suspect, as you stopped us burning, that none of those things interest you. Am I correct?"

"The only thing I want," Clara said without hesitation. "Is the Doctor. I want him safe. I want him to have a full regeneration cycle, so that he is free to keep on doing what he does. Free to keep on flouncing every single law that you made up and save people's lives. And if I can spend the rest of my life with him, then that is enough for me."

"Clara Oswald," the General replied. "You are something else. I'm not surprised that the Mad Man is attracted to you. If you want him to have a new regeneration cycle and the freedom to keep his TARDIS, then that is the smallest of prices for our race to pay. But I offer you something greater. The chance to become a Time Lady yourself. To join the Doctor forever, rather than just the length of your fleeting human life."

Clara gasped and looked stunned. After a moment, she nodded, crying now. The Doctor was staring at her in adoration. They exchanged a giggle and then Clara stepped forward.

"Be warned," the General chuckled. "This is one of our rarest scientific devices. We would not waste it on just anyone. And it will hurt. Considerably. But you will keep your current form, you need not regenerate. I'm sure the Doctor can talk you through it all, but if you'd like someone who actually has the faintest clue how to be a Time Lord…"

"Oi!"

"Then I'm here to offer you guidance should you need it."

"I'm sure the Doctor will manage just fine," Clara laughed, winking at him.

The General wasn't lying. Clara felt as though every cell in her body was burning at once, trying to get out of her simultaneously. But she couldn't scream, as her voice box was changing, being rewritten. It only hurt for a moment or so, but when it was over the memory of it made her shudder. She turned to the Doctor, her Doctor.

"Geronimo!" she whispered.


	55. Truth or Dare

***Sup guys, this prompt is truth or dare, and was sent in by an anonymous guest reviewer. I went for teenage Whouffle AU here, so obviously not Transitions spoilers. But I hope you enjoy it nevertheless, it's always nice to do something a little bit different :) TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was not the most social of 17 year olds. In fact, he was the exact opposite. He hated other people his own age, to the point where they either bored him to tears or angered him to the point of no return. As such, he was home schooled, unable to really make contact with many other 17 year olds, which was absolutely fine by him and he doubted that his parents cared. Of course they didn't. They shunted him with his tutor all day and his nanny all night, as if he wasn't old enough to take care of himself. Her official title was housekeeper but the Doctor knew that she was really the Doctorkeeper. There weren't many 17 year olds called the Doctor, but his parents were always forgetting or changing their minds about his name so much that nobody really know what it was, coupled with the fact that he played with stethoscopes from such an early age. The Doctor liked being called the Doctor, because he wanted to help people, those same people that he loathed for being simple and rude.<p>

So until he was 11, the only human contact the Doctor had really had was Stephanie, his Doctorkeeper and Marjorie, his tutor. Stephanie was like a mother to him and he loved her for that. But when he had turned 11, Stephanie broke every rule in the rulebook that his parents had given her. She had found the Doctor a friend. Stephanie may have spent most of her life in the Smiths' mansion, but she had a local group she went to on Tuesday nights, when the Doctor was locked in his room for a few hours alone to do homework. And one of the women from the group, Ellie Oswald, had a daughter that she had brought one evening a few years back because she'd asked to come for the free cookies and milk. So Stephanie asked Ellie for a favour and, as Clara lived within walking distance of the mansion, she was invited round one evening, when the Doctor had got so bored so that he had rewired the electrics in the entire house. He was just about to replace the final fuse when Stephanie cleared her throat and the Doctor glanced round and saw Clara. He put the fuse back in and the entire electrical system blew at once, the entire house's light bulbs bursting simultaneously. The Doctor swore, a word he'd seen from a 15 film he'd downloaded after hacking his parents' system to stop him viewing films on the internet.

As Stephanie scolded him, a smile on her face nevertheless, the Doctor had taken in Clara, with her brunette pigtails and her short height and her flowery dress. And her smile, which had sucked him in instantly. For the next six years, Stephanie had helped the Doctor smuggle Clara into his house almost every night, as the two became firm friends. Whenever his parents were around and not on some stupid business trip, Clara would hide somewhere in the depths of the house, and they would play a game, seeing if they could avoid being caught. To be honest, the Doctor doubted his parents would pay enough attention to spot Clara if she was in the same room as them, but that wasn't the point.

And so, after six beautiful years of friendship, the majority but not all of which had taken place in the bowels of the Smiths' giant mansion, Clara had invited the Doctor to her 17th birthday party. The Doctor had been to her birthday party every year, but this year was different as it was a house party. Her parents were leaving her alone for the night, on the proviso that nothing got broken. And naturally, Clara was excited. She was turning 17 and the Doctor was there and much alcohol would be had. The Doctor had raided his parents' alcohol closet with Clara's help the day before and bottles and bottles of their finest vodka, whiskey and wine had been pilfered. They had enough to last them a lifetime, especially considering they were never around. They'd also kept a special bottle of his parents' best champagne, which he was saving for just himself and Clara, at the end of the night.

When the Doctor arrived, Clara was slightly tipsy, but sober enough to answer the door and pull him into a bone crunching hug that he returned lovingly, his face buried in her luscious brown locks, that smelled of coconut. She kissed his cheek and he tried not to blush as she guided him through to the living room. Her house was littered with half-drunk teenagers and a group of just less than ten were sat in a circle, which Clara guided the Doctor and sat, patting the space beside her. They were playing truth or dare with shots and the night rapidly descended into chaos as Clara took two more shots and rested her head on the Doctor's shoulder as he had a shot of his own. Then it was his dare. Then, he heard the words that he had been dreading. Kiss Clara. He had to kiss Clara. Clara, never in a mood to turn down a dare, shot him a look as if to say: 'what are you gonna do?' and puckered up her lips in expectation. The Doctor loved Clara, truly loved her. He wasn't sure if there was a thing he wanted more in the world than to kiss her but he was terrified. He took a deep breath and another shot to calm his nerves. Then he pressed his lips to hers.

It was sloppy. Their tongues shot into each other's mouths but the Doctor had no idea what he was doing. Clara guided him through it, their saliva mixing and their tongues down their throats and the Doctor found the whole experience very weird. But he loved it. It was everything that he had expected and more. He breathed hot air into Clara's mouth and neither of them pulled away until someone cleared their throat and the Doctor pulled away, embarrassed. Clara was looking at him funnily and everyone was staring at them.

"Get a room you two!" someone the Doctor didn't know shouted and Clara blushed before taking his hand.

"Alright," she replied, her voice nervous as hell but her bravery spurred on by alcohol. She didn't seem that drunk to the Doctor but he knew little about alcohol. "Don't trash my house while we're gone." She pulled him to his feet, grabbing the celebratory champagne bottle and pulling the Doctor behind her. He had no idea what was going on but he was excited. Clara pulled him into her bedroom, where he had been plenty of times before. But this time felt different as she locked the door. "I've been wanting to kiss you for a very long time," she admitted and the Doctor realised his cheeks were red hot. He also realised something else. Clara was unzipping the back of her dress.

"Me too," he replied in a small voice and she guided him to the bed. She pulled off her dress and suddenly she was in her bra and underwear, nothing that the Doctor hadn't seen before but this time was different as well. "I love you Clara."

"I love you too you idiot," she laughed and the Doctor realised that she was decidedly not drunk, just confident. "Now let's crack open the champagne. And get you out of those clothes."


	56. The Reminder

***Hi there guys, this was another anonymous tumblr prompt, asking for the Doctor to be blown away by Clara's brilliance and gloomy because of a Gallifrey reference, all culminating in a gentle reminder from Miss Oswald. I hope you enjoy it and one more prompt is on its way tonight :) TPD***

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><p>The Doctor and Clara were tied to a desk. The same desk, which was somehow big enough to accommodate the pair of them. Hovering above them, Mr Tellos, a nasty piece of work with an army of slaves at his disposal. His brainwashing drug was in the water and London was entirely under his control. So, he didn't know what to do with them. And the Doctor didn't know what to do. He knew all about the Time Lords and was about to slice open the Doctor, in order to see how much damage he could do before he triggered a regeneration. Then, Clara cleared her throat. Tellos stared at her and the Doctor craned his neck to see what she had to say. For a woman about to watch her friend dissected and a woman probably about to be executed, Clara looked remarkably calm.<p>

"You know," she said like she was commenting on the weather. "For a man who claims to know all the Time Lords, you really are remarkably ignorant. If he regenerates here, now, it'll kill both of us. The energy required will burn the ropes and the desk to shreds and probably melt you too. So you'll have a very much alive Time Lord on your hands and you yourself will be ashes. So do you really want to hurt him?"

Tellos seemed to struggle with this and Clara smiled at him softly. She gestured for him to lean closer and when he did, she slipped a hand into his pocket.

"I suggest you leave the Time Lord alone," she whispered.

Tellos stared at her for a moment then smiled.

"I have laser technology girl," he smirked. "I can slice me up a Time Lord from outside of the room, human girl and the only one who would roast will be you!"

And with that, he stalked out and the Doctor let out a sigh, both of relief and anger.

"Now what Clara?" he groaned.

"Now, you get us out of here!" Clara grinned, throwing him the sonic that she had pickpocketed from Tellos when he had leaned in close. The Doctor soniced the ropes binding them to the table and they were free. The Doctor grinned at Clara and they heard lasers firing up. He grabbed her hand and they ran over to the door, which the Doctor soniced open and they were out of the room in a heartbeat.

"Clara Oswald you absolute genius, remind me to kiss you later," the Doctor enthused and she blushed, unable to think of a smart reply as they heard the guards arriving. "Run!" he yelled and took her hand again and they were running, gunfire behind them. They rounded the corner and they locked eyes, grinning despite the situation. The Doctor soniced open another door and they slid inside, shutting it behind them.

"There must be a way to stop the brainwashing drug right?" Clara asked. "Like, you said it affects the brain sensors, makes them receptors for certain frequencies? So can you jam the frequencies?"

"Yes," the Doctor replied. "We need to get to the control room, find a way to shut down the signals that he's sending out to all the people he has under his control, I can trace the signal. Can you hold the door alone for a moment?"

There was a crashing on the other side and Clara nodded reluctantly, clinging on for dear life to block the door as the Doctor used both hands to adjust the sonic. Clara let out a scream as the door crashed behind her and the Doctor seized her hand and pulled her through the next set of doors. As they soniced the next set of doors shut, the Doctor pulled Clara down another corridor, following the beep on the sonic. The room that they needed to get into was surrounded by guards, but the Doctor was fiddling with the sonic again.

"I can remotely tamper the mind control frequency," he explained. "Don't worry, it won't hurt them but it'll knock them out. We can get in there and stop Tellos." He sent a sonic wave in the direction of the guards and they dropped like sacks of potatoes. The Doctor and Clara ran forwards, kicking open the doors and racing inside. Tellos turned and frowned when he saw them.

"I wondered where my little toys had gotten to!" he growled. "The Doctor and his human girl. Why are you doing this Doctor?"

"Because you can't control other people or planets," the Doctor growled. "It's wrong, it's immoral."

"You want to talk about immoral?" Tellos laughed. "The man who committed double genocide? The man who blew up his own planet, who has butchered more species than I can remember? You have no right to take the moral high ground on anybody. Doctor."

The Doctor's fists were clenched and his heart was beating faster than ever. Clara placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him but he was already moving and as Tellos turned to punch him, the Doctor sidestepped and Tellos flailed, falling to the floor. Clara grabbed a pair of handcuffs from Tellos' desk and cuffed his hands together, throwing in a kick for good measure. The Doctor was playing around on the console, stony-faced.

"Doctor," Clara whispered. "Are you okay?"

"No," he replied, snapping at her. She backed off and he regretted it immediately. "Sorry, Clara but I just need to finish off deactivating the frequency. The drug will wash out of the water supply without constant upkeep and the drug itself will leave people's systems of its own accord. In any case, without someone operating it, it's useless. Right, let's take Tellos back to his own people for trial."

The Doctor dragged Tellos kicking and screaming back to the TARDIS and then after they dropped him home, the Time Lord was still in a foul mood. Clara touched him gently and he looked at her, trying to hold back his frustration and gloom.

"You asked me," she said quietly. "To remind you to kiss me."

The Doctor smiled. "Yes I did."

He kissed the top of her head gently and then Clara bit her lip once before pulling him into a proper kiss, her tongue penetrating his mouth and the Doctor took less than a second to react, pulling her in close to him and reciprocating with pleasure. They kissed for a few moments and then he pulled back, a broad smile on his face.

"Thank you Clara Oswald," he grinned. "For the reminder."


	57. Dark Whouffle

***This prompt is for whouffletothemax and it's a Dark Whouffle prompt. I went with serial killer AU, short and sweet (the opposite of sweet, depressing as shit). I hope you guys enjoy it (if enjoy is the right word). TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was a serial killer. It was in his nature to kill, It always had been. Ever since he was young. The surgical precision with which he was able to carve up his victims what was had earned him the nickname in the first place. John Smith was his real name. Nobody who knew it lived long enough to tell the tale. Nobody except one girl: Clara Oswald. She was the exception, she always had been the exception. She was perfect in every way for him, because she too was a serial killer. The intricate, flawless patterns she created were like a dance for his eyes, the blood forming shapes and expressing emotions so pure and perfect that the Doctor found himself turned on by it.<p>

It had taken him two weeks to hunt down Clara Oswald, using only his intuition and the one clue she left behind at every scene, her fingerprint. Except it was different each time. The Doctor traced the fingerprint trail back to her and had convinced her not to kill him by bringing her a sample of his work. She had decided to let him live and he decided to let her live and they fell in love. It was grizzly, gruesome work, loving a serial killer, but they made it work and their lives were surprisingly normal and functional for a long time, when they weren't murdering people. Then, came the problem. One of them was going to get caught.

It was the Doctor. It was always going to be the Doctor. He had always played closer to the line than Clara. Clara was passionate, emotional but she had control. When the Doctor was on form, he was better than anyone but when he got emotional, he got sloppy and when someone had tried to rape Clara, he had most certainly got emotional and he had most certainly got sloppy. They were onto him. He had to lie low, he had to abandon Clara. But she wouldn't leave him, even when the Feds were practically kicking their door in. The Doctor couldn't resist the killing. It had always been his greatest weakness. He managed another dozen flawless kills after his sloppiness but then he realised that game was over. One more kill and they would catch him. He was smart enough to know that. He would use his kill wisely.

Clara Oswald came home one day and her husband had slit his own throat.


	58. The Memory Room

***Hey guys, things have been more than a little heavy with that last prompt so here is some cute and fluffy Souffez to make up for it. This was another tumblr prompt and asking for Clara to find a very special room on the TARDIS. I hope that you enjoy it :) TPD***

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><p>Clara was starting to warm to the TARDIS. They had had their initial fall-outs, but following everything that they had been through together, the TARDIS had begun to trust her and Clara appreciated that trust. It went both ways. She trusted the TARDIS more and more, especially considering that it had stopped hiding her bedroom. On this particular day, Clara was in a good mood as she stepped out of the shower and changed into a clean dress, red and long, with patterns on it that every Clara didn't understand. She stepped out of her bedroom, looking for the usual route to the console room. But, suddenly, it was as if the TARDIS was leading her in a different direction. Clara frowned but followed the path, her faith in the TARDIS beginning to waiver. But she stuck with the machine, determined not to let it best her or make her nervous.<p>

Clara reached the end of the corridor and was about to turn back when a door shot open in front of her. Frowning, Clara was worried that it was a trap of some sort, designed to play a practical joke on her, a conspiracy between the Doctor and his machine. But she played along, seeing that she had no real choice in the matter. She stepped into the room and her jaw dropped. There were pictures of her on every wall. Some of them, very few but some, were of her echoes. But almost all of them were of Clara herself, her image splashed across every wall. Them at Akhaten, them on a Cold War submarine. About fifty taken with that stupid camera that he'd picked up when they went to Caliburn House. Them in Victorian England, a day out with the kids. Trenzalore. Even more. When they went to the Ice Cream Planet. Time zones, planets, almost all of their trips. And then a few sweeter ones, just Clara and the Doctor hanging around, posing for stupid photos. Clara blushed as she soaked it all in. The Doctor thought of her then. A lot.

At this point, the aforementioned Time Lord entered the room, whistling cheerily and admiring two new photos for his wall. He dropped the photos when he saw Clara.

"Clara!" he said in a very high voice. "I thought I told you to stop her seeing this room," he hissed and Clara guessed that he was talking to the TARDIS. "Sorry, I mean this room is just…a…uh…that is to say it's…"

He was so flustered and adorable as he stumbled over his words, looking more and more embarrassed as the skin in his cheeks got redder and redder. Eventually, he stopped trying to talk and then Clara ran over, throwing her arms around him and giving him the biggest hug.

"It's a memory room right?" she asked and he nodded. "I love it Doctor. I love that I'm such a big part of your life and that you think about me so much and that this is clearly more than just about me being the Impossible Girl because there are pictures from after I jumped into your time stream. I love you for this Doctor, it's the sweetest thing that anyone has ever done for me."

The Doctor smiled at this and she planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He blushed again, seemingly still lost for words as Clara stepped out of his embrace and he wanted nothing more than to pull her right back in. She winked at him and plonked herself down in the middle of the room, examining all the photos and patting the floor beside her. The Doctor almost fell over in his haste to sit beside her and they sat there for what seemed like an eternity, sharing memories of all of their great adventures.

"I love you too Clara Oswald."


	59. Shower

***A prompt from tumblr, this one a one-word prompt: shower. There was almost going to be a smut element to this, so I hope you like it, but I tried not to make it all about the smut. Keep sending them in! The Potter Doctor***

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><p>Four days. Four days they had been crossing the desert. Four days of sweaty clothing, dusty skin and four days without showering. Clara had lost count of the amount of times she had lost her patience with the Doctor over the course of those four days and naturally, he was on the defensive. But he knew that he didn't really have a leg to stand on. He had told her that it would take them a day at most to reach the nearest town when the bandits had placed the TARDIS on the back of their truck at gunpoint and driven off, the Doctor cursing and shouting after them.<p>

And now four days later, they were still traipsing through the jungle, the Doctor using the sonic to produce water at points. But Clara was red raw, her skin burning and blistering, her hair and damp clothes the only shield from the sun. Beside her, the Doctor had stopped talking for probably the first time in his life, shielding the pair of them from the sun as best they could. They tried to rest during the day, as it was much easier to travel during the night, but with the heat that proved almost impossible, so they kept trudging on. On the evening of the fourth day, they saw the town on the horizon and ran to it, their last reserves of strength failing them as they reached the town and crashed into the hotel on its outskirts, begging for water.

"Bandits?" the woman behind the desk asked sympathetically as her husband rushed over with water for the pair. "Yeah they've been terrorising these parts for a while. You're more than welcome to stay the night, free of charge. I'll get you a suite."

The Doctor and Clara stuttered their thanks over and over again and then they went to their room, collapsing on the bed and sleeping for what seemed like an eternity. Then, it was time to shower. Clara stepped under the water, the perfect temperature as it wasn't boiling, but a deliberately lukewarm, that soothed her aching body. Her skin was a disgusting mixture of red and brown, sunburn, sand and peeling skin. Dead skin and grains of sand turned the water a disgusting colour as it washed off her and the Doctor joined her after a moment. He didn't say a word as he kissed her, their hair sticking to their faces as they intertwined, Clara gasping slightly as he entered her. The hot water the only thing separating them, they massaged each other's delicate bodies, all the pain that they felt they shared. The Doctor didn't thrust, so much as ease Clara into it and she was more tired and relaxed than aroused. Nevertheless, after a few minutes, she felt ecstasy building within her and the Doctor pressed her up against the shower door as she gasped and then screamed his name, barely audible over the running water. After nearly an hour in the shower, they crawled out and collapsed back onto the bed.

"We need to find the TARDIS," Clara breathed.

"I need another shower," the Doctor laughed.

It took them an hour to find the bandits trying to flog the TARDIS in a back alley downtown and slipped into it. Clara wished she could have seen the looks on the faces of the bandits as the TARDIS dematerialised.

"So," the Doctor grinned at her. "Shower?"


	60. Idris' Return

***Hey guys, this great prompt was sent in by the brilliant xandrota, who I really hope likes it and I hope the rest of you do too! It features the return of the TARDIS in human form! Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>Every evening since Ellie was born, the Doctor had disappeared in the TARDIS and returned thirty seconds later, claiming that he was working on something important. Clara wasn't sure what he meant by that but she trusted the Doctor and it wasn't as if he was going anywhere, he came straight back and had sworn on Clara's life that he hadn't left the TARDIS the entire time. This continued for almost a year until one evening, he thundered out of the TARDIS, taking the stairs two at a time, and almost crashing into the bedroom, earning him a death stare from Clara who had been nursing.<p>

"I did it!" he shout-whispered. Clara rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her interest.

"Did what?" she shot back.

"I managed to find a positronic body stem capable of holding the TARDIS matrix for an extended period of time without short-circuiting and without harming her in any way. I borrowed the time from a TARDIS eating monster but she's totally okay with it and I did it Clara! I created Idris, Mark II!"

"What's an Idris?" Clara frowned and the Doctor threw his hands up in the air.

"Idris was a woman who became my TARDIS!" he grinned. "And I've managed to recreate her. I have successfully turned my TARDIS into a woman for periods of up to three hours at a time. And she's the perfect babysitter!"

"You want me to leave my baby in the hands of a robotic version of your TARDIS?" Clara asked, her eyes narrowing to slits. "You realise I barely trust you or my dad with her right?"

"But it's the TARDIS!" the Doctor whined. "She'd be a perfect babysitter."

"You have a point," Clara raised an eyebrow. "After all, she manages to babysit you for a living and you're somehow still alive. Although did she drop you on your head? I can't have a careless babysitter and look how you turned out!"

The Doctor pouted at this as Clara giggled and then cursed as Ellie started crying. She shooed the Doctor who ran back to his TARDIS and emerged moments later, dragging someone else, who Clara strongly suspected was Idris Mark II behind him. The stairs groaned under his thudding and then he was back in front of Clara, offering Idris to her like a present.

"Hello," Idris said, almost mechanically. "I'm the TARDIS. You are Clara Oswald. The Doctor managed to find a body capable of sustaining my matrix. I won't pretend it didn't hurt, or that this isn't unpleasant, but it means that I can watch my Doctor being a father again and it has been a very long time. Hello little one."

"Just, keep back from Ellie," Clara said cautiously, tickling her child's belly in an attempt to stop her crying and she looked to her baby-speaking husband for advice.

"She's full now and she wants to sleep," the Doctor informed Clara. "Let Idris take her and you and I can go out to dinner for a change."

"Doctor!" Clara snapped unnecessarily then looked at him and shook her head. She turned to Idris. "I won't let the Doctor drag you out of your home and your body and shunt you in here just so that we can go on a date. After everything you've done for him, go back to the TARDIS, where you belong."

Idris smiled. "You are exactly what he needs Clara," she said, her voice only slightly less void of emotion as she walked out of the house, returning to the big blue box in the garden. Clara handed Ellie to the Doctor and kissed his cheek.

"Thanks for trying," she whispered and the Doctor nodded. He would never stop trying. For Clara.


	61. Interactive Writing

***Hello one and all. This prompt was a son of a bitch and was sent in by the amazing xandrota, who seems to love torturing me (i'm kidding, you know i love the great prompts you send in and who doesn't love being challenged as a writer). Basically, the Doctor and Clara can interact with the writer (me) while I'm writing it. The bits in italics are the disgruntled Whouffle's responses to my ramblings, it should be obvious which character is which. I hope you enjoy and keep sending them in guys! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor and Clara stepped out of the TARDIS and into a whole new world. The trees were shimmering yellow, the sunlight was fading but washing the fields of red grass with a soft blue glow. Clara's breath hitched in her throat and she turned to look at the Doctor.<p>

"I love new planets," he said. _"Seriously? Haven't I said that before? Do I look like the sort of person who would repeat himself?"_

"Where are we?" Clara asked. _"Because apparently I can't think of anything more interesting to say!"_

"This is planetary system Delta-Omega-Beta-Nandos-Twelve," the Doctor enthused. _"Well that's just rubbish, nobody would ever name a planet after a ridiculously overpriced chicken restaurant from Chiswick. What do you think I'm still travelling with Rose Tyler or something; get your head out of your arse writer!" _"It doesn't have a name, just a designation because it's uninhabited." _"Oh great, we're about to find out that is in fact inhabited aren't we?"_

"How can it be uninhabited?" Clara asked. "I mean, there's trees and stuff so it can obviously support life. Even if there are just plants, doesn't that mean it's sustainable?" _"Okay, bonus points to the writer here for making me intelligent. And he's kind of cute."_

_"Oi! Oswald! No flirting with the writer!" _"Yes well, something is due to happen in about 500 years that will completely annihilate the planet's evolutionary process, wiping out all potential for life before it's even begun. Hence, just the designation. No name." _"You say 500 years writer, but we both know that frankly, that's just a blatant lie isn't it? How far out was my flying this time? Because apparently I can't even fly my own ship properly unless it advances the plot."_

"500 years you say? You're sure about that? Because you do tend to be wrong a lot."

_"See even Clara's picked up on it! It's not fair I tell you! I can fly the TARDIS perfectly but you lot are all like oohhh nooo, let's knock him out by 500 years so I can end all life on this planet!" _"Shut up!"

The Doctor and Clara strolled out across the ridge, arm in arm, giggling away as they crossed the field. Then, they heard it, the noise. _"Here we go Clara! This is the plot twist." _It was a low, rumbling noise that seemed like it was coming from beneath the ground but was pulsating through the valley. _"See 500 years out! Told you! Just once can you put faith in me, you stupid, useless, plot-hole inducing…" "Shut up Doctor, you'll antagonize the writer!" _

A digger shot from out of the treeline in front of them, churning up the ground in front of them, spraying vibrant orange mud in every direction. It hurtled towards the Doctor and Clara at breakneck speed and they barely dived out of the way in time, finding themselves covered in the excess mud as they went flying. _"You see Chin-Boy? You pissed him off!" "It wasn't my fault! If you hadn't flirted with him, he'd have let everything be fine. Men hate it when you distract them from your work with your body Clara Oswald." "Yeah, they hate it. That's why you always ogle me when I wear skirts." "I do no such thing…"_

At this point, it started raining. Clara scowled at the Doctor, who looked apologetic as they trudged through the field, covered in orange slime as the digger hurtled off into the sunset. The Doctor was sonicing the ground and frowning. _"See, now I'm doing something useful."_ "Those diggers. They're not just tearing up the ground. They're using seismic technology to disrupt the tectonic plates of the planet. They're an invasion force. In half an hour, this entire planet will fall apart, the tectonic plates will shift, creating unparalleled seismic activity, killing everyone and everything on the planet."

"But why?" Clara gasped. _"Yes why? Why destroy a planet? Why cover me in orange goo? Why bring us here at all? Do you just like seeing us suffer, you sadistic bastard?" "At least you've stopped flirting with him."_

"Profit," the Doctor scowled, as if the one word explained everything. _"Ah profit. As far as motivations go, it's a bit blasé don't you think?" _"And also, I am feeling an overwhelming urge to take you to the planet of the dung beetles after this, we can go swimming in dung, won't that be fun?" _"Damn you. I'll behave."_

"Dung beetles?" Clara raised an eyebrow and the Doctor shrugged. "Can we stop the seismic activity?" _"Well seeing as this planet is uninhabited, I'm guessing the answer is no?"_

"No," the Doctor replied sadly. "We just have to make it back to the TARDIS and get out of here before the planet blows." _"Well you're a cheery writer aren't you?" _At this point, the Doctor stumbled, losing his footing and falling awkwardly, causing severe pain to shoot through his knee. Clara giggled at this.

They made it back to the TARDIS and shut the doors behind them. The Doctor started flipping switches as Clara felt a tear roll down her cheek. He turned back to her and smiled sadly, before pulling her into a gloopy orange hug. _"Now kiss!" "Shut up Doctor."_

"I'm sorry we couldn't do more," he whispered. "But this is the life of a time traveller sometimes." _"Now kiss!" "Shut up Clara!"_

And then, he kissed her. _"Bout fucking time." _And then she kneed him in the nuts. _"I warned you not to piss off the cute writer."_


	62. Bells of Saint John Reprise

***So this amazing prompt was sent over on tumblr, asking for what would have happened in TBoSJ if Clara hadn't been attacked by a spoonhead. Now I wrote myself into a fucking corner here, because about two thirds of the way through, I realised that the way the Doctor behaves, there is no way in hell he would be able to get people to travel with him unless he ends up saving their lives. Because he's just too weird and to an extent creepy for anyone to willingly get in a box with him unless they'd seen him in action or had no choice. So I had to think of a get out clause. I went down the wibbley-wobbley-timey-wimey route. I hope you enjoy! TPD***

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><p>As Clara heard yet more hammering on her front door, she found herself exceedingly annoyed and yet at the same time, she had to admire the strange man's persistence. Clara took the stairs two at a time, eager to be rid of him. At least this time, she realised, he wasn't wearing the monk costume anymore and he actually looked kind of attractive. He had switched a purple tweed jacket and matching bow tie. His hair was slicked back into an almost stylish quiff. Not that Clara would admit that the strange man backing on the Maitland's door, calling himself the Doctor, was attractive, but she could see how some people would see it that way. Clara didn't need a man, wasn't interested in blokes, but if she was, she could see how lesser mortals would find him hot.<p>

"What do you want?" Clara asked again, throwing open the door to glare at this strange man.

"Just to talk," he enthused, seemingly desperate. And there was a look in his eyes, his big, sad eyes, like he'd seen too much. Clara bit her lip. She opened the door further and invited him in. "Excellent. Clara Oswald. Why no Oswin?"

"You mean why isn't my middle name something that you made up?" she asked, allowing herself a small smile. "Tea?"

"You're a tea drinker why doesn't that surprise me?" he laughed. "What is this?" He was indicating towards a bowl full of batter that was almost empty and lying on the side.

"I like baking soufflés," Clara shrugged. "The kids think I'm rubbish at it."

"Ohh yes of course, Soufflé Girl," the Doctor laughed. "And kids, do you have kids?" Clara was about to answer when he carried on ranting. "Oh of course, you're a governess, I mean a nanny, I mean a babysitter, that's the modern term for it, isn't it?"

"Who are you?" Clara laughed. This man was unlike anyone she'd ever met. She was unsure if she liked him or not. "And yes, I babysit for the Maitlands, this is their house. I just look after the kids since…their mum died," she finished sadly.

"I'm the Doctor," he said as if this explained everything. "And you are Clara Oswald."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I do."

At this point, he plucked a small brown stick out of his pocket, that glowed with a green light as he approached, running it over her body and she glared at him, slapping his hand away. Then, he did something even weirder. He sniffed her. Clara raised an eyebrow at this. Then, he went one step further. He licked her cheek. Clara slapped him and he staggered backwards, grinning like a small child.

"Get out of my house, you weirdo!" Clara screamed, stepping back from him and looking at him in pure disgust. "What are you doing?"

"You're human?" he sounded surprised and a little bit disappointed. "That's interesting. You're a normal human girl. Wasn't expecting that. Soufflé Girl. Clara. Hmm. Anyway, let's get all caught up. I'm the Doctor, I'm a time-travelling alien from the future, I'm over 1000 years old, with two hearts and a spaceship/time machine all rolled into one in the shape of a big blue box. Now I know what you're thinking, this crazy lunatic needs to be locked up and you'd be right. But, if you throw me out now, then you'll never be able to see the universe."

Clara threw him out. She slumped against the door, as he hammered on it again, spouting rubbish about the universe and the whole of time and space. Then, he seemed to walk off and Clara flicked on the monitor, thoroughly disturbed by the entire encounter. The Doctor had entered his blue box and then, before her eyes, the phonebox disappeared. Clara let out a little squeak. Then, she heard a great roaring sound, a terrible whooshing and the world around her began to change. After a couple of seconds, the whooshing had died down and she was standing in a strange room, grey with strange blue lighting and the Doctor was stood there, looking smug. Clara screamed and hurtled towards a set of doors, throwing them open. She staggered out and she was back in the Maitlands. The blue box had moved and it was parked in the hallway.

The Doctor stepped out of the box, looking thoroughly impressed with himself.

"See?" he grinned. "Time and space traveller. All of time, all of space, back in time for tea. The kids will never know you're gone. Interested?"

"Get. Out. Of. This. House."

"Oh for God's sake, what is it going to take to impress you?"

"Impress me?" Clara screamed. "You're a weird man and you've just broken into my house and you licked me. I'm bloody terrified."

"Oh right yes. Sorry about all that. Look, there's nothing to be afraid of I promise."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because I have one of those faces," he replied gently and Clara looked into his eyes. "I can take you anywhere in time and space. All you need to do is let me in Clara."

Clara found herself completely thrown by this crazy man. He shook his head and then walked back into his box and the box disappeared. Clara was left wondering who he was and what he wanted. It was three days before he returned, a Wednesday. She opened the front door and there he was. She frowned.

"Listen," he said. "I know the last time I pitched up was kind of weird and awful and I made a terrible first impression. So one trip. Let me take you somewhere awesome and then you'll know I'm telling the truth."

"Why should I believe you?" Clara accused and at this he smiled. "Because you already have."

He stepped to one side. And Clara herself was stood behind him, wearing her favourite blue skirt. Clara frowned and the other Clara smiled at her.

"Are you me?" Clara whispered.

"Yep," the other Clara replied. "I'm you from your future. You may not believe him now, but trust me, in time; you will trust the Doctor with your life. And I know you don't believe this is me, so I'm going to tell you something that only Clara Oswald would know." She leaned in close. "Mum's last words to us. They were: 'Live for me Clara. Because I love you more than anything and I don't want to see you unhappy.'"

Clara's jaw dropped and she wanted to burst out crying at this. She looked at the Doctor and he had the strangest look on her face, like he was pitying her and examining her and trying to welcome her in all in one. The other Clara smiled weakly and followed the Doctor back to the blue box, which disappeared and reappeared moments later.

"That was me," Clara whispered. "Me from the future. You have a time machine."

"Yep," he smiled. "Want to test it out?"

"Come back tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because tomorrow, I might say yes."


	63. Allonswin

***Did somebody say Ten/Clara? Yep, we have an Allonswin prompt for you this evening, with just a sprinkling of Donna Noble. I'd love to write more Allonswin, from Clara's perspective and I do have some great multi-Doctor prompts coming up for the amazing Counting Sinful Stars but as they're going to be titanic undertakings, here's a short but sweet Allonswin to keep you ticking over. Enjoy!**

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><p>The Doctor was trying to show off again. Donna decided to let him, as it didn't hurt once in a while to let the idiot inflate his own ego. He was flipping levers and moving quickly as Donna stood lazily, doing her utmost to act completely and utterly unimpressed. She even yawned for effect and the look on his silly face was priceless. He frowned as they landed and Donna stepped off the railing she'd been leaning on.<p>

"So, I just thought I'd drop you home, check how your family are doing!" the Doctor grinned. "Plus, there was a tiny atmospherical anomaly I wanted to investigate. Which, has now gone…oh hell I missed it."

"The anomaly?"

"The year. It's 2013. UNIT will get there first now, for goodness…"

The Doctor sighed and was about to flip some more levers and switches when the TARDIS doors flew open. Donna raised an eyebrow and the Doctor shrugged. They both turned to face the doors and were hit by the sound of someone whistling as a girl strolled in, red satchel over one shoulder, wearing a red cardigan over a light green dress. Her brown hair was softly curled and her eyebrows arched as she entered the TARDIS and she stopped whistling, her soft lips forming an 'o' shape. She looked from the Doctor to Donna and then she turned back to the Doctor and punched him on the arm.

"I knew I wasn't the first attractive woman you travelled with you lying sack of shit!" she yelled as she punched him in the arm again and he looked well and truly flabbergasted. "Sorry," she stopped suddenly and Donna was laughing out loud as the Doctor's jaw had dropped a mile. Plus, she got a kick out of being called attractive. "I know I shouldn't hit you for things you haven't done yet. But I suppose you are you right?"

"I'm me," he repeated blankly. "And you are?"

"Clara," she replied curtly. "So, are you going to take me to another planet or would your girlfriend be offended?"

"Oh no, we're not together!" the Doctor and Donna said together and Clara smirked.

"Good to know not everyone who ends up in this place ends up in bed with him," she chuckled. She turned back to the Doctor. "You don't remember me do you?"

"No," he replied cautiously. "Should I?"

"Probably not," she mused. "So, planet?"

"I'm sorry," the Doctor crossed his arms at her and Donna held back a snigger. "Who are you?"

"Clara," she repeated again, slowly, as if he should have been listening properly the first time and nodding along patronisingly. Then, she pulled a face and felt his cheekbones, before lazily turning around and strolling towards Donna. "Clara Oswald. And you promised me a trip. Will promise me a trip. It doesn't matter, you're all the same person."

"How did you get in here?" he asked. "I don't see a key."

"Don't need one," Clara replied with a shrug. "I can open the door with a snap of my fingers."

"Are you kidding?" Donna asked with a laugh. "Not even he can do that!"

"Not yet," Clara corrected. "Anyway, hot stuff. I was expecting the Doctor but you're as good as any. Yeah I know you've not met me yet, timelines blah, I have something for that." She threw him a pill. "Swallow that, you won't remember meeting me. You can have one too if you like?"

Donna realised that she was talking to her and shook her head politely.

"Sorry," Clara moved so she was standing next to Donna and offered out a hand. "I've been really rude, hi I'm Clara."

"Donna," she was struggling to contain her laughter. "And don't apologise, I am loving this. But I don't want to forget it. I am not going to forget a single second of my life with the Doctor, ever. I won't say anything to him about you, I promise."

"Okay then," Clara smiled, a twinkle in her eyes. She walked up to the Doctor and examined him. "Wow, you're young."

"How can you tell?" he asked carefully, watching her.

"Those eyes," she whispered. "They're definitely your eyes. They're definitely after the Time War. But they're not as…"

"Not as what?" he sounded anxious to know.

"Not as sad," she replied, a sad look on her face. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't be here. The Doctor, MY Doctor…" The way she said MY sent a shiver down Donna's spine. "He looks so much younger and yet I can tell how old he is. I love him. I really do."

"And do I love you?" the Doctor asked and Donna chewed on her lip.

"You tell me."

Clara was holding a ring up to the light and the Doctor stared at her with a look on his face. Donna had seen it before, it was when he was talking about Rose. Because he was staring at someone that he would love, completely.

"So, planet?" Clara sounded exasperated. "I rarely have to ask this many times, are you going through a rebellious teenage phase?"

The Doctor took them to Rhapsody, the planet of pure joy. After a few hours, they headed back and they were back in 2013. Clara leaned up and kissed him. The Doctor seemed taken aback but after a moment, he settled into the kiss. It lasted far longer than Donna had expected it to and it was starting to weird her out when it finally ended.

"6 and a half," Clara informed him. "How old are you now?"

"904," he replied smugly.

"Gives you 300 years or so to buck your ideas up," Clara informed him. "Or maybe my Doctor is just a better kisser. He's definitely hotter. Donna, make sure he swallows that pill. Timelines and all that."

With that, Clara gave her a little wave and she was gone. Donna stared at the Doctor, who shrugged.

"She seemed nice."

"Take the pill Time-Boy."


	64. Clara Gives Birth

***Hey guys, quick prompt for you, this one is for 7Seven7! Rory is the nurse when Clara gives birth and the Doctor, who pitches up unexpectantly, is forced to play the role of father, as Clara's fiance is missing. Light hearted fun, you all know where it's going, I hope you enjoy it. TPD***

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><p>Rory was used to the graveyard shift on a Thursday night. It was usually very quiet, which was why so few doctors were working. It was also why, when something big did happen, Rory often found himself having to make do and mend. The car crash meant that all the doctors were tied up and everyone was working overtime. Rory had found himself a spare moment amongst all the chaos when the front doors flew in and a young woman staggered in. She looked heavily pregnant and the fact that she was clutching her stomach indicated she was probably here for one reason only. Her dark hair was plastered to her face with sweat and rain and she was screaming in pain. Rory rushed over and supported the woman, who was breathing heavily.<p>

"I'm going into labour," she told Rory.

"I guessed that," he replied with almost a laugh. "I can find you a room but all the doctors are busy, I'll have to do."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine!" the girl laughed. "My fiancé is a doctor of sorts, he'll be in any minute. He's just parking the…car," she finished lamely.

"Okay," Rory guided the girl into the nearest free room and lay her down. "What's your name?"

"Clara!" she yelled between breaths. "Clara Oswald. Where is the Doctor?"

"I told you, there is no doctor!" Rory informed her. "Where the hell is your fiancé?"

"He probably dropped the regulator valve and ended up in…never mind," Clara groaned.

"I'm going to grab some towels, don't go anywhere!" Rory shouted.

"Like I would!" she screamed back at him.

Rory tumbled out of the room and almost collided with the Doctor, who was coming the other way. He stared in surprise and the Doctor reacted similarly for a split-second before grinning.

"Hey Rory," he beamed. "I was looking for you, fancy a trip?"

"Doctor," Rory was about to argue about the time but then remembered who he was talking to. "I'm with a patient who's about to give birth, there's no doctors free and her fiancé is AWOL, I don't have time, even with your stupid time machine!"

He smiled at Rory in an odd fashion. Even by his standards, the Doctor was behaving strangely.

"I'll stick around and help then, I've delivered hundreds of babies. Well slightly less than hundreds. More like ten. Okay, not ten either, less than ten. But there was this one time…okay not really but I've seen it done."

Rory rolled his eyes. "I'm sure the poor girl could use all the help she can get."

They rushed back into the room and Rory smiled at Clara.

"Clara, this is the Doctor, he's here to help."

"Hello Clara," the Doctor introduced him and Clara's eyes had narrowed to slits. "I'm the Doctor."

"I know who you are, you fucking prick, get over here and do something."

"Yes right well, Clara, he's not an actual baby Doctor, but he is a good friend of mine," Rory explained. "So I am going to be doing the delivery and he can play the boyfriend role, seeing as yours is AWOL." Clara was looking thunderously at the Doctor now, who mouthed the word sorry and another word Rory couldn't make out that looked suspiciously like 'timelines'. "So if you just take the Doctor's hand and squeeze it like he's the man who impregnated you with this baby."

"Oh believe me," Clara said with a venom in her voice that startled Rory and frightened the Doctor. "That will not be a problem. Doctor Who exactly?"

"Not now Closwald!" he hissed and Rory raised an eyebrow. "Name's on the chart," the Doctor explained with a smile, as Clara gripped the Doctor's arm hard.

"Okay Clara," Rory took a deep breath. "Push!"

Clara screamed profanities at the Doctor, punching him repeatedly. She got very into character, pretending that he was her fiancé as she yelled, saying things that her fiancé would probably be very embarrassed that she was saying to a complete stranger.

"I can't believe he's not here!" Rory groaned, Clara was halfway through telling the Doctor that she was never going to have sex with him again, as if they'd ever had sex in the first place. "What father would miss his child's birth?"

"An arsehole!" Clara swiped. "You look pale Chin-Boy, you weren't looking so pale when you stuck me with this child were you?"

"Clara," Rory said with half a laugh. "I know I told you to pretend that the Doctor was your fiancé but give him a break, you don't need to get so into it."

"No Rory," the Doctor said. "It's fine. It's obviously good for Miss Oswald to let it out."

"I will let it out all I want you great big twat. And you can forget about taking me on your Snogbox for ages. You're stuck on this…"

At this point, the Doctor had muffled Clara with his hand and was frantically whispering in her ear. Rory raised an eyebrow and he made a sign to indicate that Clara was crazy. Clara punched him in the nuts, screaming: "Right in the baby maker." Rory could have sworn he heard the Doctor mutter: "Until I regenerate!" but clearly Clara didn't hear him.

The process was longer and more arduous than Clara or Rory had expected, considering how far along she had been. But when the little boy popped out, and Clara was breathing properly, clasping the Doctor almost lovingly, which surprised Rory.

"Would you like to hand Clara the baby Doctor?" he asked with a chuckle.

"No," the Doctor replied quickly and Rory and Clara both shot him a look. "I mean, she should hold him first, not some strange Doctor."

"It's fine," Clara said tenderly. "You were here for me, I insist."

Rory handed the Doctor the child and he cooed over the child like it was his own, looking at it with such love in his eyes, it was startling. After a few moments, Rory was staring weirdly at the Doctor, who remembered where he was and gently handed the little boy to Clara.

"Dave?" the Doctor asked quietly and Rory shot him an exasperated look.

"It's perfect," Clara responded with a laugh as Rory took the Doctor to one side.

"Listen mate, I know you're eager to help but I can take it from here. Her fiancé will be in soon and the last thing she needs is you hanging around causing trouble."

"No!" Clara said abruptly and Rory shot her a confused look. "My fiancé is a total goof, he could be hours parking the car, he's probably already driven home. Totally useless, no idea why I agreed to marry him. Let him stay. Please?"

Rory rolled his eyes and the Doctor sat on the end of Clara's bed. "I have other patients, can you keep an eye on her Doctor?" The Doctor saluted. Rory left the room and Clara giggled as the Doctor slipped over to the door and locked it with the sonic.

"I thought we'd never be rid of him!" the Doctor laughed and Clara grabbed him by the tweed and kissed him. "Dave Rory Oswald."

"Dave Rory Oswald," Clara repeated. "Do you think we should ask him if we can name the baby after him, really fuck with his head?"

"I was planning on smuggling you out before we have to think of a lie as to why your 'fiancé' hasn't pitched up."

Rory returned to the room a few minutes later and it was empty. He frowned and shouted for both Clara and the Doctor. He raced out into the street and heard the TARDIS dematerialising. Rory suddenly had a thought. But it was such a wild, insane thought, that he completely dismissed it. There was no way that the Doctor was the father to that child. No way. It was a coincidence. Rory shook his head. The Doctor was an enigma all right.


	65. Cold War Epilogue

***Hi there guys, another prompt for 7Seven7 and this one is an epilogue of sorts to Cold War. It features some dark themes and violence but I hope you like it anyway, there's a lovely fluffy Whouffle moment at the end! Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>Clara rolled over in bed and sighed heavily. She was facing the wall in her dimly lit bunk, dressed in an old soviet uniform two sizes too big for her. They were two days away from their destination after two long weeks in the sub. Despite all the improvements the Doctor had made, they hadn't been moving fast enough. Clara breathed deeply, she hated the submarine and wanted off more than anything. Her hair was lank, her dress had been ruined and she felt like a spare part. The Doctor had kept himself busy around the ship but Clara knew nothing about soviet submarines, so tended to sit with him while he worked, handing him parts and following his instructions. When the Doctor wasn't around, the Russians acted very strangely towards her, as if they didn't quite know how to react to her. At least the professor was kind to her. Clara heard the Doctor cry out from the bunk below her and sat up so quickly that her head rattled the ceiling and she cried out in pain. She tumbled out of bed and loomed over the Doctor.<p>

"Are you alright?" they said together.

"Fine," they both replied instantly, and shared a smile as they did so.

"I hit my head!" they were still talking in tandem and this time they laughed.

Then, Clara screamed as one of the Russians grabbed her from behind, dragging her away. Two more converged, pointing their guns at the Doctor as if they knew he was about to try and stop what was happening. Clara struggled but the man was too strong. He was dragging her towards the bathroom, a small, cramped room but one that he could lock. As they turned the corner and the Doctor disappeared from sight, Clara's muffled screams died down. She took a deep breath and then pulled the soldier's knife from his holster and stabbed him in the leg. He yelled out in pain and let go of Clara, who pushed away from him. She heard the sonic whizzing and the Doctor shouting her name. They met in the middle and he grabbed her hand.

"Run!" he whispered and they legged it through the corridors of the ship, until they reached the main command room, where the captain eyed them wearily. They were both out of breath and Clara hurriedly explained what was going on when the three men entered, all looking shifty and the captain stared them down.

"I know the faces of liars," he growled. "You three. Miss Oswald is a guest on our ship. I could have you all court-marshalled for this. Luckily for the three of you, the Kremlin must never know she was on this ship. I am tempted to shoot you all now for your behaviour. To the brig. Dismissed. Miss Oswald, Doctor, I want to whole heartedly apologise for what happened. Rest assured, it will not occur again."

They went back to their bunks, but suddenly Clara felt very exposed and very alone. She shivered and the Doctor looked at her with his big, sad eyes.

"Can we share a bunk?" she whispered. "I know they're barely big enough for one but…"

She didn't have to say anything else. He patted to his bunk and she climbed on. He followed her, so she was pressed up against the wall, his body between her and everything else. She felt his arm arch over her protectively as he pressed himself against her so that they would both fit. Clara immediately felt safer and happier and she rolled so that his chin was millimetres from hers. His eyes were wide open, staring at her like she was the most perfect thing in the entire world. They were pressed together, confined in a tiny space, but Clara felt nothing but pure relaxation as they locked eyes and smiled. He kissed the top of her head and they lay there for what seemed like an eternity, blissfully ignorant of the world.

"I'll always take care of you," the Doctor whispered.

"I know," she replied.


	66. TARDIS Flying

***Hi there guys, this one is for the awesome whouffletothemax, I really hope you like it. So, the Doctor teaches Clara to fly the TARDIS, featuring some cute and fluffy Whouffle and also some arguing. Keep sending them in, either by PM or review! TPD***

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><p>"Are you sure about this?" Clara asked nervously. "Because the last time we tried this, we ended up caught in that Magno-field mawhatsits."<p>

"I'm sure," the Doctor replied gently, his voice reassuring her. "We're in an area of deep space, so deep that there's no way anyone can find us out here. Now, thrust the helmic regulator when I tell you to, I'll set her down to basic. Oh don't give me that look, even the best have to start somewhere."

"Did you shut it down to basic mood when you first started?" Clara asked accusingly.

"No," the Doctor responded. "But in my defence, I had flown a TARDIS before I stole this one. Okay, I hadn't, but I'd had training, which I skipped…but I did go to one lesson on TARDIS flying that one time…and I slept through it. Okay, point taken but I am a Time Lord."

"That's your excuse for everything!" Clara pouted.

"Yep and if you were a Time Lord, you'd make the same excuse," he replied cheekily, before fiddling with a few switches. "Now, I've set her to basic, follow all of my instructions. Helmic regulator. NOT THAT ONE!" he yelled and Clara flinched away from the lever. "Sorry but that one would blow a hole in the time-space continuum. Joking!" he added hastily. "But still, that's not the helmic regulator."

Luckily, Clara got the helmic regulator on the second time of asking and then flipped another switch that the Doctor pointed out. Before she knew what was happening, he had stopped shouting frantic instructions from across the console and had edged closer. The closer he got to her, the calmer his voice became, until he was guiding her hands with his own, practically whispering in her ear as he pressed his body against hers. Clara found it comforting and the feeling of his hot breath on her neck was oddly soothing as he helped her find the right buttons and levers every time. Clara took a deep breath and he stepped away from her grinning triumphantly.

"See!" he enthused. "You're getting the hang of basic mode. Soon, I might be able to up you to the next level. Level 5."

"Don't you mean Level 2?" Clara asked with an arched eyebrow.

"No, Level 5 because 5 year olds on Gallifrey are expected to be able to fly the TARDIS on that level," the Doctor replied nonchalantly, moving out the way as Clara tried to swat him. "Kidding," he added quickly. "Any five year old who's stuck on a level 5 program shouldn't be in the academy."

Clara rolled her eyes and punched him, his mischievous eyes lighting up. She turned back to the console and the Doctor told her he was going to shower. Clara bit her lip, she couldn't resist the urge to try out what she had learned. The TARDIS was stationary, drifting through the deep space. What was the worst that could happen? Clara flipped the helmic regulator, oscillated the thermal oscillator and wrangled with the toggle switch that the Doctor had installed because he loved them so much. The TARDIS groaned into life and Clara immediately realised she had made a mistake. The TARDIS lurched and started spinning uncontrollably. Clara grabbed the console for dear life, as it hurtled out of control. She tried some more switches, at which point they dematerialised. They were now flying through the vortex and sparks were flying from the console. Clara let go of the console and went flying, buffeting the railing and she was sure that she had cracked a rib. The Doctor came hurtling into the room, wearing just a pink fluffy towel around his private area, soaking wet, hair dripping, sonic in hand.

"What did you do?" he shouted and Clara's voice failed her. She just shrugged. "This, Clara Oswald, is why it is on basic!"

He didn't speak to her after that; he just hammered levers and flipped switches, hurtling round the console at 100mph, all the while using one hand to steady his towel. After a minute or so, in which Clara clung to the railing for dear life, letting out the occasional yell after a particularly bumpy moment. Then, they stabilised and the Doctor took a deep, relaxed breath. He was making noises, gentle, soothing noises and Clara realised that he was comforting the TARDIS. He stormed over to Clara and despite how ridiculous he looked, Clara realised why people were scared of him. There was a look in his eyes. But it wasn't anger, it was frustration and, Clara realised sadly, a disappointment. He stared at her for a moment and then shook his head.

"Don't. Touch. Anything. Do you think you can handle that Clara?" His words stung her, but the patronising tone was worse. He was angry, Clara realised, even if the anger didn't reach his eyes. He turned his back on her and stormed out of the room.

Clara followed, unsure of what to do or what to say. She ended up in her bedroom, lying on her bed, feeling humiliated and useless. After about an hour, there was a calm knock on her door. She turned. The Doctor entered, dressed, his hands fumbling around, a look on his face that Clara couldn't pin down.

"Are you alright?" he asked kindly and Clara sniffed and nodded. "I'm sorry that I got angry with you Clara, but the TARDIS isn't a toy. She's not like the car you can pinch off your parents when you're 16 and drive up and down the driveway. She's dangerous and you don't know how to fly her. I don't set her on basic to mock you, as much as you think that's the only reason." Clara flushed at this. "Now do you want another lesson?"

Clara's eyes lit up. "You still want to teach me?"

He smiled. "As long as you don't pull another stunt like that, Clara Oswald, then of course I still want to teach you."

She pulled him into a huge hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I could have killed us both."

"It's okay Clara," he replied gently. "I would never have let that happen."


	67. Clara Comforts The Doctor

***Another one for whouffletothemax now and it's another cute, fluffy Whouffle prompt. The Doctor is sad and misses the Ponds. Clara Oswald is on hand to cheer him up. I hope you guys like it and keep sending in your prompts, I love writing them. TPD***

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><p>Clara would often hear strange things as she made her way through the TARDIS corridors late at night. The Doctor had so many odd rooms and eerie things in the TARDIS that she had stopped questioning the oddities of the noises that she heard. But this particular noise, in the middle of the night, as Clara made her back from the kitchen, having made a late night snack, startled her. More than startled her. It shook her right to the core. It was the sound of crying. And not just any crying. It was the sound of the Doctor crying. Her Doctor crying. She stopped in her tracks and pressed her ear to the door that it was coming from. It was definitely the Doctor and he was definitely crying. She knocked gently and then she heard the sonic whirring. She tried to open the door but it didn't budge.<p>

"Doctor," she asked softly, the voice that she would use to talk to one of her children when they were upset. "Doctor, it's Clara." Duh, who else would it be Oswald? "Can you let me in?" There was no response. "Please?"

The sonic whizzed again and the door opened when Clara tried it. He was sat on the floor and he smiled at her wearily as she entered, tears running down his cheeks. She shut the door, although she wasn't sure why and she crossed the room in a heartbeat to sit next to him. They sat side by side, knees bunched up. Clara reached for the Doctor's hand and took it gently. She looked around the room. It seemed fairly plain, a giant double bed in the middle of it, not much to distinguish it, except that there were clothes everywhere. Both male and female.

"This was their room," he explained and she stared into his eyes. "The Ponds. Amy and Rory. I've not had the heart to touch anything. I come in here sometimes, just to sit. To you, to the world, to everyone, I always seem okay, emotionless. Alien. I just know how to channel it. So I come down here, cry every once in a while and then let it all slide away. I don't let it phase me."

"You miss them," Clara said gently, smiling gently and running her fingers over his hand in concentric circles. He nodded; no words able to express how much he missed them.

Clara wrapped her other arm around him, guiding him with it. She moved his head onto her shoulder and swivelled him into a hug. He sobbed on her shoulder and for what seemed like an eternity, they sat there, the Doctor crying, Clara comforting, no words spoken. Eventually, the sobs died out and they fell into a comfortable silence. Then, Clara took the Doctor's arm and pulled him to his feet. He sniffed and looked at her in confusion.

"Come on," she whispered. "We're going somewhere."

The Doctor frowned as they moved through the TARDIS corridors, towards the kitchen. Clara dragged him along behind her and then they were in the kitchen. Clara held up a finger to indicate for the Doctor to wait, then she rummaged around in the freezer until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a mountain of different flavours of ice cream, thudding them all down on the side as the Doctor let out a sigh.

"No negativity!" she scolded. "Pick a flavour."

"I don't…"

"Pick a flavour Chin-Boy!" Clara laughed but her tone was firm.

"Fine, chocolate chip cookie!" he grumbled and Clara snatched up the pot and two spoons, grabbing him by the hand and guiding him to her bedroom. She patted the bed and he let off another sigh of indignation before sitting on the bed, Clara plonking herself down next to him and wrapping her arm around him. She opened the tub of ice cream and handed him a spoon.

"Eat!" she instructed. The Doctor dug his spoon into the soft, tasty cookie dough ice cream. She beamed at him and he pretended to enjoy it. In truth, the ice cream wasn't bad and Clara's smile was infectious. She nudged him gently with her shoulder and he nudged her back, allowing himself a genuine smile.

"Thank you," he whispered. "My Impossible Girl."


	68. Prank War

***Hey guys, this is another tumblr prompt, asking for the Doctor kicking off a Whouffle prank war. Now if anybody watches New Girl, then this was partially inspired by Winston, who is without a doubt the worst pranker in history. Anyway, keep sending in your prompts and I really hope that you guys enjoy this one. TPD***

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><p>Clara was running late. Like super late. She skirted round the corner to her classroom and kicked it open, running inside and breathing a huge sigh of relief. The class wasn't in yet and the bell rang, just in time. At which point the Doctor popped out from his not very subtle hiding place behind a desk and yelled: "Ha! Got you!"<p>

"Got me how?" Clara asked curiously, unpacking her bag quickly as the class filtered in and the Doctor made his way to the front of the class.

"I set back the clocks by a full minute!" he smirked. "So you were actually a minute early! Ha! Pranking Oswald! I have pranked you! Expect more, I shall be…merciless. Like a crouching dragon or a hidden tiger."

"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around," Clara smiled at his adorableness. He pouted and raised a finger in the air dramatically as the kids laughed at him. "I will consider myself warned Doctor, now hurry along, you have a class to teach!"

Clara rolled her eyes as he left. One minute setting back the clocks? What else did he have up his sleeve?

The Doctor's next prank was to take Clara out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and leave her there for 12 hours. She almost drowned twice and ended up with hypothermia. After that, he put a kick me sign on her back. He then followed that up by convincing her that there were Daleks in the house, causing her to call UNIT and have them surround the place with weaponry until the Doctor eventually trudged out to admit that it was all a prank. His next attempt was to swap two coat hangers around in her wardrobe. Then he cut the brakes to her motorbike. Clara had luckily avoided death but ended up crashing into a pig sty. He found the whole thing hilarious of course.

All the while, Clara plotted her revenge. She had a wicked, twisted smile on her face whenever he was around and she hoped that she was scaring him. In the Doctor's defence, when she informed him that his pranks needed to level off and stop being so extreme, he started to get the hang of it. His next prank at least seemed to get closer to the middle, as he jumped out and shouted boo. He didn't scare her, but at least he was along the right lines. Clara was dreading his next attempt to kill her.

The Doctor got home on Tuesday evening and went straight to the kitchen. He had had to stay late to clean up a science experiment gone wrong and he was hungry. He was hoping Clara had already started cooking but also hoping she hadn't because she was rubbish at it. Then he saw her. Clara. She was lying on the floor of the kitchen, blood everywhere. He shouted out and ran to her side. She wasn't breathing.

"Clara?" the Doctor yelled. "I hope this is a prank? This is a prank right Clara? Clara?"

She didn't budge, so he pressed down on her chest and kissed her gently. She was cold as ice. He checked her pulse but it was non-existent. He pumped on her chest again and again, screaming her name as she lay there, blood oozing from her chest. He cried and cried and she wasn't budging. This was no prank. Clara was dead. He screamed in pain, every fibre of his being wanting her, needing her to be alive.

"Ha!" Clara stepped into the room, laughing. "Not nice, is it?"

"Clara?" he breathed. "But? But? How?"

"Oh you know, vortex manipulator, got me a flesh counterpart, hope you like her. She didn't feel anything, if that's what you're worried about; they gave me a dead model. Looks like I got you back Chin-Boy. Prank war over now, or would you like to go again?"

He pulled her into a tight hug, relief washing over him as he sobbed. "Clara, my Clara. Never do that to me. Ever again."

"I won't," she whispered. "I promise."

The next day, when Clara got into work, she was feeling very smug. But as she pushed open her classroom door, a bucket of blue paint was waiting for her, and it landed on her head, covering her in ice cold blue paint. The Doctor was stood in her classroom, grinning with another bucket and he hurled more blue paint her way, smothering the front of her. Clara spat blue and glared furiously at him from under a layer of blue paint. He was howling with laughter and then he lightly pressed a sticker onto her chest. She ripped it off and stared at it. It was like the sign on the outside of…

"There!" the Doctor smiled cheerfully. "Now you're the TARDIS."

"Oh it is so on Chin-Boy."


	69. Clara Snogs The Snogbox

***Hey troops! As far as prompts go, this was a weird one. Clara snogs the snogbox and the Doctor responds. Frankly, I did my best with this one and I really hope you guys like it. Plus, I love occasionally writing from 11's perspective, it mixes things up a bit! :P TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had seen many things in his long life. One could say that he had seen everything. He had thought that he had seen everything. After over 1000 years of time and space, the Doctor had long since given up on the idea that the universe could throw anything at him that would shock him to his core. And then, one evening, in the dead of night, he was whistling cheerfully to himself as he strolled through the TARDIS, when he walked into the console room and saw something that he had never in his life expected to see. Clara. She was straddling the console, snogging the central pillar like her life depended on it. The Doctor, mesmerized, unable to take his eyes off of the sight before him. He cleared his throat and Clara fell off the console, cursing as she plummeted to the ground. The Doctor watched her as she stumbled to her feet, humiliated and fumbling over her words, desperately trying to think of an excuse for what had just occurred. The Doctor didn't wait for one. Instead, he took a running start, jumped onto the console and pressed his lips as firmly against the pillar as he could. He ran his tongue left and right, grinding his body against the TARDIS. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing or indeed why he was doing it, but he would do anything to make Clara less embarrassed. After a few moments, he jumped down and smiled warmly at Clara, as if what had just happened was a regular occurrence.<p>

What happened next, neither of them had seen coming. The Doctor took a step in, stared at Clara and said breezily: "Might as well complete the trio." And then they were kissing. Their lips connecting, their eyes bulging and their hands wrapping around each other. The Doctor went for Clara's top and she stared at him, before nodding gently. At which point, the Doctor was woken up by Angie flicking his face.

"Ow!" he yelped as he sat up. He was lying on the sofa in the Maitlands, as he had been when he fell asleep there the previous night. Of course he had been. Blimey, that had been one hell of a dream. Clara walked into the lounge and smiled warmly at him.

"You alright Doctor?" she laughed. "Dream about me did you?"

"Just a bit," he replied wearily. "Nothing bad I promise."

"Whatever," she snorted. "You staying for breakfast?"

He smiled at this. "Always."


	70. Teenage Daughter

***Daleks? Cybermen? Darren from down the street? I think I know which one the Doctor least wants to face right now. His teenage daughter...has a boyfriend. *GULP* Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>"Ah Clara," the Doctor fell over as he crashed into the kitchen, where Clara was stirring some soup. "Good, you're still here and still alive."<p>

"Doctor," Clara groaned exasperatedly. "I keep telling you I'm 53. Humans live until we're like 80 or 90."

"Yes, well," he looked terrified and Clara was suddenly worried. What was happening? "Do you want to go Dalek hunting? I want to go Dalek hunting. There's a lovely flock of Daleks, flying right over the Ridgemar of Valtagoon that would be lovely this time of year, we can take some very big guns. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CLARA PLEASE LET ME GO DALEK HUNTING!"

"What on earth could be so frightening that you would rather drag me hunting Daleks than face it?" Clara cried, and then it hit her and she smirked, a small laugh leaving her as the Doctor stared at her, fear in his eyes.

"Ellie is bringing a boy home!" he whispered, his voice breaking as he produced the text that his daughter had sent him.

"She is 18," Clara smiled and waved a hand. "And it's fine, Darren's lovely."

"You've met this Darren?" The Doctor sounded outraged. "What is he like? Is he nice? Is he alien? Did you sonic him to make sure?"

"Of course I soniced him!" Clara lied, biting back a smile as she flicked her dark hair over her shoulder. "He's perfectly ordinary and perfectly lovely. You'll…" Clara considered lying again. "You'll find him really boring. But he likes football and video games and he likes Ellie, so play nice."

At this point, the front door crashed open and Ellie strode in. She looked so much like Clara, the Doctor thought, as his daughter entered the kitchen. The way she carried herself, the dresses that she wore, the way that her brown hair clung to her shoulders. And her eyes, the deepest brown you could imagine. The Doctor stared down the boy whose hand was wrapped around hers, in a fashion that the Doctor could only describe as tentative. The boy looked slightly scared but Clara smiled brightly at him and he immediately softened. The boy, Darren, or so he claimed, was taller than Ellie, nearly six foot. He had dark, curly hair and was wearing a cardigan that was grey, flecked with black and navy jeans. The hand that wasn't enclosed in Ellie's was in his back pocket and he had a nervous face. The Doctor frowned at him and Darren raised out the hand that had been in his pocket, as if for the Doctor to shake. The Doctor took it and pulled him in close, examining his facial features. Darren looked more worried now as the Doctor pulled out his sonic and scanned the boy.

"Dad!" Ellie hissed. She looked murderous.

"What's he doing?" Darren asked, managing to keep the fear from his voice. Clara and Ellie exchanged a look, Ellie imploring her mother to do something. Clara thought she had cracked a rib from trying so hard not to laugh.

"Scanning for any transmundane emanations!" the Doctor informed him. "You're clean."

"That's…good to hear, sir!" Darren gulped. "I'm Darren, sir, Ellie's…um…"

"Girlfriend," Ellie snapped, glaring at her father. "He's my boyfriend. Darren, this is my Dad, call him the Doctor, or he probably won't speak to you. You've met my mum, call her Clara, it makes her feel young again, and she gets way too much Mrs Oswald at school."

"Will you be staying for dinner Darren?" Clara asked gently, shooting her husband a look as the Doctor had started fumbling with his sonic, as if double-checking nothing was wrong with it. "My husband is a fantastic cook, he's making his home made burgers, they are to die for."

"10 times," he muttered. "Took me 11 bodies to get one that can cook."

Clara swatted at him, as Ellie rolled her eyes and pulled Darren along behind her, shouting that yes he was staying for dinner and to call them when dinner was ready. The Doctor was spluttering something about not having checked for alien parasites and then Ellie's bedroom door was being slammed and Clara's mouth pulled into an amused smile as she stared at her husband.

"No!" she said, unable to stop smiling. "I mean it."

"You don't know what I'm thinking!" he snorted.

"You're going to use the TARDIS to spy on our daughter while she's alone with her boyfriend."

"Okay, maybe you did know what I was thinking. But I just want to make sure that there's no funny business going on."

"No!" Clara laughed. "Leave her alone, she's 18. She has a right to a life and a boyfriend and a…" They were interrupted by a giant thud.

"What was that?" the Doctor growled.

"It sounded like someone falling off their bed, would you just…"

But the Doctor was already moving, sonic in hand, taking the stairs two at a time. Clara rolled her eyes but followed anyway. The Doctor was sonicing the bedroom door open, despite Clara's shouted protestations. Ellie was frantically screaming at him to get out, or so Clara assumed from her yelling. But when she reached the top of the stairs, she saw the Doctor squaring off against a giant worm, with Ellie screaming and cowering. Clara swore and the Doctor ducked as she hurled a chair, which collided with the worm, causing it to explode. Ellie, who was sprayed with grey worm gunk stared at her parents in abject horror.

"You guys ruin everything!" she screamed, hurtling past them, crying.

"You'd think she'd thank us for saving her life!" the Doctor grumbled.

"That's teenage daughters for you!" Clara laughed. "And what do you mean we?"


	71. Angie Finds Out

***Hello troops, another day, another set of prompts. This one is Angie discovering that the Doctor and Clara are a thing and persuading them to go public. I hope that you like it and as ever, keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>Clara had been so careful not to let anyone find out about the Doctor. She had refused to let him come over to the Maitlands since they had started dating, because he was in the terrifying habit of very coupley things in public. He didn't understand that PDAs were not always welcome and that Clara did not want anyone to know, because she didn't want to have to explain how she'd ended up falling in love with a madman in a blue box who travelled time and space. There were just too many awkward questions.<p>

Clara had started working at the school several months earlier and moved out to the Powell Estate, a flat that the Doctor had acquired for her, saying he knew someone who lived there once and that Clara would be very happy there. He was frequently there when Clara got back and it had only just occurred to her that he still had a set of keys from his friend. She wasn't amused but she couldn't help but appreciate the time and effort that he put into her. He occasionally showed up at her work, despite her attempts to shoo him off. One lunchtime, he had pitched up and Clara couldn't resist the quickie in the cupboard that he was offering. As they stumbled out of the cupboard, laughing and giggling like schoolchildren, rather than a teacher and a 1200 year old Time Lord, Angie was just stood in her classroom, arms crossed, eyebrow raised and a smirk firmly planted on her face.

"Ahhh Angie!" the Doctor grinned. "I was just testing the viscous level of the nitric fluid, isn't that right Clara?"

"You were having a quickie."

"We were having a quickie."

"Clara?!"

"Well she's not exactly going to believe your rubbish lie is she?"

"Nope. Not a chance in hell. Sorry Doctor."

The Doctor huffed and stormed off back to the TARDIS to play with his helmic regulator as Clara laughed and Angie stepped in to stop her following him. Clara shot her an easy smile, but knew that the following conversation would be anything but easy.

"Angie?" she smiled politely.

"You've got to tell Artie and Dad!" Angie informed her. "They'll be so happy for you."

"But it's the Doctor!" Clara groaned. "Everything's so complicated. He's a time-travelling alien from outer space and who knows if he'll just go somewhere and die or lose his TARDIS, or get his timing wrong and never return. You guys can't keep expecting him to pitch up or…"

"Or…" Angie prompted.

"Or me to pitch up," Clara finished suddenly. "What happens if I die?"

"Clara," Angie said gently and Clara glared at her. "This isn't about you or the Doctor dying. Just tell them."

Angie continued to pitch up to Clara's school during her lunch hour every day that week and every day the following week. The Doctor had turned up on both Wednesdays but they couldn't pull another stunt like they had on the Angie had found out, because the girl kept coming in to bother Clara, talking incessantly her every second she was in the room and telling her at the end of each meeting that she needed to tell George and Artie. It took two weeks for Clara to give in.

The Doctor fidgeted nervously with his bow tie as Clara rapped on the door. She hadn't been back to the Maitlands for dinner much but she was feeling twice as guilty and twice as nervous because she was bringing the Doctor along. She turned to him and smiled wearily, before straightening his bow tie for him. The door opened and Artie beamed up at them.

"Clara!" he cried. "Doctor! Come in!"

They stepped into the corridor and George Maitland stepped to join them, a smile on his face and an apron on his chest. He pulled Clara into a hug and shook the Doctor's hand.

"Good to see you Clara!" he beamed. "And Doctor, always a pleasure."

"Mr Maitland, sir!" the Doctor saluted and Clara scoffed, her hand finding the Doctor's subconsciously. George spotted it and shot Clara a look.

"Are you two…?"

"Yep!" the Doctor grinned. "I am Clara's new gentlemen friend! Boyfriend, I believe the technical term is nowadays. Well, for another 100 years, then the term will be outlawed after…"

Clara stood on his foot and he yelped slightly, Mr Maitland shooting him the oddest of looks, before turning back to Clara.

"I'm really glad to hear it, you two make an adorable couple. Angie and Artie will be so thrilled."

So they told the kids. Angie gave the most sarcastic feign of surprise known to man and Artie jumped up and down, squealing and clapping his hands. Clara smiled and the Doctor smiled and the kids smiled and all was right with the world.

A couple of months later, Angie was looking for Clara again. She wandered into her classroom and Clara stumbled out of the cupboard, as per usual. Angie expected the Doctor to follow, so was shocked when an older man, with grey hair and a navy suit tumbled out after her, laughing as he did so, his laughter cut short when he saw Angie. Angie glared in fury.

"You're cheating on the Doctor?" she accused. At this point the man started laughing and Clara had to supress a smile. "What's so funny?"

"Oh Angie," the man laughed. "I am the Doctor. This is why Clara didn't want you to find out in the first place. I don't age, I just change my whole body. And now, people can never know about Clara and I. Because look what happened last time. You found out. And then I regenerated. And this regeneration is a little bit spikier."

"A little bit?" Clara snorted. "You almost ripped my leg off in there."

"Too much info!" Angie interrupted. "So you're the Doctor?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"This is too weird for me, I'm going now. Oh and Clara, you'd better tell Artie and Dad."

"But Angie, I can't tell them about…"

"Clara!"

Clara and the Doctor exchanged a look.

"Fine. Here we go again…"


	72. Midnight Crime

***Hello people. The amazing at boosting my confidence xandrota asked for a prompt, set at midnight staring Whouffle and crime being somewhere involved in there. So a Whouffle AU Crime story set at midnight, with a twist, coming right up! This is the last of my regular prompts, so I'm going to start work on the super prompts some fantastic individuals have sent in. They'll all most likely be multi-chapter, so I'll inevitably end up posting them as their own stories, so I hope you enjoy them when they come out. In the meantime, keep sending in regular prompts and I'll post them here. And as ever, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this prompt. TPD***

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><p>Her mother had always told her, when the clock strikes midnight, a new day begins. So forget the pain of the previous day and focus on what is to come. For Clara Oswald, midnight did indeed bring a new day and with it, new hope. The car, a black Mercedes SLK, pulled up outside the Museum and she got out. Beneath her big, fluffy coat and huge rucksack Clara was wearing a black leather cat suit. She slipped round to the back of the building, smiling cheerily at the guards, as it looked like she was going to be passing the Museum and heading down the river. Instead, once she was past the guards, Clara found the fuse box for the building, outside, far too easy to take down.<p>

Once she had dismantled the electrics, she would have ten minutes to get in and get out with her prize. The salvage of a lifetime. Her ticket to a new life. And all she had to do to get it was perform a little bit of crime. She stripped off the big coat, pulled her equipment out of the rucksack and checked that nobody was around. Then, Clara climbed up the wall with her equipment. When she reached the balcony, she hopped over the balcony and picked the lock of the gallery doors. She was in. Security was on full alert, but they were limited to torches and people, no cameras or lasers. Easy.

Clara moved swiftly through the gallery, constantly ducking low and avoiding the guards. She swept past a pair who were looking particularly vicious. She just had to traverse the next two rooms. She had three minutes to get there and get out. Child's play. It took her just over a minute to get through the next room and grinned to herself. The grin slid off of her face when she entered the final room. There were no less than ten guards, all armed and all in formation around the object that she had come to steal. They had known she was coming then and what she was coming for. The lights flickered back on and Clara dived into an alcove. She had checked all the security camera black spots in case she needed them and this was one such time. She should still have another 90 seconds, how had this happened? Then she spotted him. The Doctor. The slick back hair, the tweed jacket, the bow tie. She should have known. He was giving directions to the gun men, who were fanning out now, looking for her. This was it, she was done for. The Doctor was laughing and then, two men ran right past her. She kept herself pinned until it was only her and the Doctor in the room.

Then she stepped out. He spotted her instantly and his eyes narrowed to slits. They stood, opposite sides of the room, looking at each other for a moment, drinking each other in. Then, the Doctor started to laugh. Clara joined him, giggling in delight as she crossed the room and threw herself into his arms. He kissed her and then they turned to their prize.

"Shall we?" the Doctor asked. "I've already disabled the cameras."

"I assumed as much," Clara replied. "How did you do this?"

"Walked in, convinced them I owned the place, works every time. What's with the get up?"

"Well," Clara winced. "You said we needed to get it back. Or we were stuck here. So I did some research, worked out a plan and…"

"And broke into the museum?" he sounded both disappointed and proud. "Ah well, what's done is done. Get in the TARDIS."

So they got in the TARDIS and by the time that the gunmen charged back into the room, the TARDIS had already flown away.


	73. Clara Bakes The Doctor A Soufflé

**Whouffletothemax, this one is for you. A cute, fluffy as sin, adorably wonderful, sweet as sugar. Whouffle baking, the clue is in the title. I really hope that you like it. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor woke to the smell of burning. He leapt out of Clara's bed and checked himself up and down to make sure that he wasn't on fire. Satisfied that he wasn't burning to death, he scouted out Clara's bedroom to determine the source of the blaze. He checked her wardrobe and then her chest of drawers. He was reluctant to check her knickers drawer, so the second he had established that nothing was on fire in there, he slammed it shut so fast he was convinced he'd break the cupboard. The Doctor sniffed again. Burning pastry. He followed the scent out of Clara's bedroom and tracked his nose down the stairs, prowling as he did so. When he reached the ground floor, he traipsed along the corridor, following the waft of fire. He reached the kitchen but the door was shut in his face. He opened it and caught a quick sight of a 5ft, flour encrusted woman barrelling herself in his direction before the door slammed shut in his face.<p>

"Go back to bed!" Clara squeaked. "It's a surprise."

The Doctor heard Clara start swearing loudly on the other side of the door and the sounds of crashing and burning ensued from the kitchen. He didn't move a muscle, listening to Clara's movements and wondering if he should follow her advice or if he should go in and help her. After a few moments, he heard her sigh and she must've realised he was still there, because the door opened just a crack. Enough for him to see the dough on her nose and the pleading tone of her eyes.

"Please Doctor, just go away!" she begged. "Go back upstairs, it's a treat."

The Doctor went back upstairs, deciding to follow Clara's request. He showered and changed into his purple tweed, with matching bow tie and then went to check on the TARDIS, which was stationary in the Maitlands' back garden. When he returned, he rapped lightly on the kitchen door, which earned him more swearing than he was comfortable with. The Doctor tried to amuse himself but it felt like hours until the kitchen door finally swung open and he was able to witness the carnage that had proceeded inside.

He looked around the kitchen. There was flour everywhere. It covered every surface, like someone had let off a snow machine inside the kitchen or a drugs bust gone wrong. The oven was hissing and steaming and the room was smoky. The surfaces were lined with ingredients, eggs, flour, milk, all strewn everywhere. Mixing bowls littered the area, some cracked, some sticky and few even slightly washed up. There were oven trays left, right and centre, some with burnt soufflés on, others with pastry that had died and some that looked perfectly adequate but that no doubt tasted rancid. At the heart of the chaos, stood Clara, covered from head to toe in ingredients so that she looked like a human soufflé. Her arms were coated in flour, there was dough all over her face and her apron was splashed with milk. Egg yolk dripped from her ears. Her hair was white as a sheet and tied up into a cute bun, but strands were falling out of it. She sneezed adorably and flour shot everywhere, sending Clara into a coughing fit. And in her hands, offered out to him, was a single, perfect soufflé.

"I baked you a soufflé!" she said with a weak smile, as if the mayhem around her hadn't occurred.

"Is the oven on fire?" the Doctor asked with a grin.

"No!" Clara replied indignantly. "I put all of the fires out I checked. Three tea towels, my apron twice, my hair, that was a scary one it was why I tied it up and six soufflés."

"Six soufflés caught fire?"

"You could sound a little more surprised."

"Six soufflés caught fire?!" he sounded astonished and Clara giggled as he accepted his present and grabbed the nearest spoon. He bit into the soufflé. It was decidedly average but to the Doctor, it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

"It's official," he told her with a wink.

"What is?" she asked nervously.

"You are soufflé girl."

She threw herself into his arms and kissed him.

"I love you," she whispered, the soufflé forgotten as they stared into each other's eyes.

"I love you too."


	74. Arrow Crossover

***So, an anonymous tumblrite asked for me to do a crossover with another tv show or book that I love. I've done Harry Potter to death, so I figured I'd go for an Arrow crossover. For those of you who don't watch it, Oliver Queen is basically a cross between Batman and Robin Hood. And for those of you who do, I really hope you'll love this prompt. We have Olicity and we have Whouffle. Keep sending them in. TPD***

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><p>Oliver Queen was on his salmon ladder again. Felicity seemed to love it when he did it, so do it he did. Diggle was taking a night off, as all was quiet in Starling City. Crime was down, villains had been arrested and for once, Oliver could relax. He hung upside-down; sweat dripping from his chest, half an eye on the blonde typing away at the computers and pretending that she wasn't watching him. But Oliver knew that she was, but every so often, she'd sneak a glance at him when she'd think he wasn't looking. It made him smile to think that Felicity was watching him as he worked out, just as he was sure she was blushing as he watched her work. Felicity stifled a yawn and Oliver realised that she was trying hard not to let him realise she was tired, worried that he'd send her home if he realised how knackered she was. There was no chance of that, Oliver was too selfish on that front.<p>

Then the noise started. A horrible wailing, like a throbbing noise, like the world was going to end. Oliver dropped off the ladder, landing on all fours and rolling as Felicity swirled around in her chair. They exchanged a look of confusion and Oliver gave her his most serious but caring eyes as he went for his bow. He slung his quiver onto his back and loaded an arrow as the noise got louder and a blue box materialised in the Arrow cave. Oliver didn't know how to react, what to say or do. So he did what he always did when he was unsure, he unleashed an arrow at the box. One of the doors opened and the arrow whistled into the shut door, millimetres from where a short brunette with curly hair and a blue dress had stepped out. She screamed and Oliver lowered his bow, both in shock and so that he didn't hurt the girl.

A man, dressed in purple tweed with a ridiculous bow tie and hair that made Oliver want to put an arrow in him stepped out of the box past the girl, glaring furiously at Oliver. He charged over and Oliver raised his bow again. He shot Felicity a reassuring look as she looked completely and utterly dumbfounded.

"Oliver Queen!" the man shouted. Oliver didn't have to ask how he knew who he was. "I'm a huge fan of your work but if you put another arrow with ten feet of my Clara, I will throw you into a supernova, do I make myself clear?"

"I'd love to see you try," Oliver snarled, not lowering his bow. "But don't worry, I don't tend to shoot innocent girls, that's not my prerogative."

"Umm Doctor?" the girl, Clara the man had called her. "Where are we? Who are these people?"

"We are in Starling City Clara," the Doctor informed her. "Annoyingly, we've ended up in another parallel universe, where the Green Arrow comic books aren't fiction. We'd better get out of here soon, dimension crumbling and all that. In any case, this is Oliver Queen. The Arrow. I'm sure you'll have read about him, he's a popular comic book figure in your universe. He puts arrows in bad people."

"Nope, never heard of him," Clara had walked forward and was staring at Oliver now. She reached out a finger and touched his abs. Oliver was dumbstruck he didn't quite know how to react. "He's dreamy though, can we keep him?" She looked like she was about to start drooling and this Doctor did not look impressed.

"Oi!" he slapped Clara's hand down. "No drooling over the Canadian. Anyway, this…" he motioned towards Felicity and now he looked excited. Oliver and Clara both looked at Felicity, raising their eyebrows. "This is Felicity Smoak!" The way he said her name forced Oliver to resist the overwhelming temptation to put an arrow through him. "She is one of the finest computer geniuses ever to live. She is Oliver Queen's friend and partner in crime and she is one of my favourite people of all time."

Oliver did raise his bow now as the Doctor shook a stunned Felicity's hand and air-kissed her cheeks. Clara poked Oliver's chest again and he swirled to face her. Felicity and the Doctor were talking technobabble and Clara was ogling his chest.

"Sorry," she blushed. "But you are gorgeous."

"Who are you?" Oliver asked, lowering his bow again. "Where did you come from? What the hell is that box?"

"It's called the TARDIS," Clara replied. "It's a spaceship. And a time machine. It's bigger on the inside, it messes with your head. He's called the Doctor, he's an alien, it's all a bit weird. But me? I'm Clara. Just plain old regular Clara from Blackpool, England. He offered me time and space, so how can a girl say no?"

"He must care about you a lot," Oliver replied with a smile. "To show you the whole of time and space."

Clara looked taken aback, as if the thought hadn't even occurred to her.

"Well, he just sort of picks people up," she replied tentatively. "We only started to fall in love afterwards. He's the most incredible man I've ever met. I'd give up everything to travel with him, but I'm never going to tell him that. As far as he's concerned, I have a life outside of that blue box and that's how I want to keep things. But what about you and Felicity?"

"What about me and Felicity?" Oliver snapped quickly, harsher than he meant to and Clara giggled.

"Oh come on!" she enthused. "You've not stopped looking at her out of the corner of your eye since we got here. Big blue box, crazy alien and all you can think about is her. You have this protective thing going on as well. Like if anyone touches her you'll kill them. You're doing it now. You don't even realise you're doing it but she's having a conversation with the Doctor and you want to take that bow and unloose some arrows into him."

"No I don't," Oliver lied, putting his bow back on its stand as if to prove a point to this girl that he had only just met. She rolled her eyes. "Felicity is a friend."

"The way you say her name begs to differ. You say everything else in this cold, hard tone, like the world is out to get you. But when you say her name, it's the softest thing in the world. Oliver Queen, you're in love. It sticks out like a big chin. And she feels it too, I can see in her face. She's looking to you in such a way, like she needs you. You have to ask her out."

Oliver was stunned. Out of the box and the alien and everything, this Clara girl was the thing that he didn't understand. How could such an ordinary girl be so astute? Pick up on so much in so little time. He did love Felicity, but he could never be with her, for so many reasons.

"I can see why he likes you," Oliver replied, ignoring the Felicity points. "You're good."

"And you probably think it's too dangerous to fall in love with someone because of the life you lead. Classic superheroes. God, you're all the same. Batman, Spiderman, the Arrow, Christ you all think that women are some off-limits topic just because you wear spandex or Kevlar or whatever the hell you wear and fight crime."

Oliver stumbled over his words as Clara put a hand on his chest again. He raised his eyebrow at her.

"Sorry, but you are really hot."

"Can I keep you?" Oliver asked with a laugh and this earned him the Doctor's attention.

"Clara, get your hand off of the superhot hero, we're leaving."

"Oh," Oliver sounded disappointed and he realised that he really liked Clara and wanted her to stay. "Do you have to?"

"Fraid so, quantum physics dictates all!" the Doctor waved his hands in the air in an odd fashion. Clara winked at Oliver.

"Ask her out," she whispered to him and then she skipped after the Doctor. They got into the box and it made the noise again as it disappeared. Oliver stood, staring after it. Then he turned to Felicity, who looked a little stunned but content. He remembered Clara's words.

"Do you want to go get some food?" he asked with a smile. "I know a great little Italian restaurant."

"You mean like a date?" Felicity was smirking slightly and Oliver gave her his most winning Oliver Queen smile.

"Yes like a date."


	75. Almost-Lying, World Domination, Burgers

***Hey troops! This prompt is what happens when xandrota and I end up having late night conversations. Almost-lying is a thing I apparently I do a lot to BS my way out of telling her spoilers when she's close to guessing, so that, coupled with a concept going world-wide and the first thing in my head (cheeseburgers) are the net result and this is the resulting prompt. I really hope you guys like it, keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>It was last lesson on a Thursday. The kids had always stopped listening by last lesson on a Thursday. Clara was treated to a cacophony of groans and sighs when she set work and when she spoke, the only responses she got were yawns and the occasional grunt. However, this Thursday's joyous chorus had a new sound joining in, one that was sure to wake the kids up. The groaning, wheezing, shrieking of a materialising Time Lord. Clara couldn't stop herself smiling as she ran to the window and stared out. The TARDIS hadn't appeared outside, which meant it was even closer. The Doctor burst out of her store cupboard and the kids nearest to it screamed as he laughed. Clara rolled her eyes, secretly happy to see him but put on an annoyed face. She still had another ten minutes until lessons ended.<p>

"You're a bad person!" she informed him, as he crossed the classroom and swept her off her feet, spinning her around as he lifted her into the air and brought her down into a hug. They kissed and Clara pushed him off. "Not in front of the kids!" she hissed, unable to stop her smile from spreading though.

"What were you doing in the closet?" one of the kids said. "Miss Oswald, what was your boyfriend doing in the cupboard?"

"Fiancé, I think you'll find!" the Doctor objected. Clara nudged him with her elbow. She smiled warmly however, and he knew wasn't in trouble. "And I was waiting for Miss Oswald to be finished with her lesson. I'd been in there for a good twenty minutes."

"But we'd have seen if you went in there twenty minutes ago. You're lying."

"Almost," the Doctor corrected. "I'm almost-lying. It's lying, but not quite lying."

"That's not a thing," Clara told him. "Now shut up and get back in the cupboard, I'm still teaching. And if I hear you dematerialise, I'll take number 51 off the table."

The Doctor grumbled but retreated back to the TARDIS as the children stared at him and then back at Clara.

"Oh don't worry about him, he'll be fine, it's bigger than it looks in there. Now Hamlet…"

Clara was still giggling as she forced the kids out of the classroom and raced over to the store cupboard, throwing open the door and stepping into the TARDIS neatly parked inside.

"Nice parking," she complimented.

"I've been practicing at 2am, while the school's empty!" he informed her and she laughed at this. "So, where do you want to go? What do you want to see today? Pyramids, as they're being built? The Second Great Wall of China? New Japan?"

"Can we go to Burger King?" Clara asked with a grin. The Doctor's face fell so fast she almost died of trying to contain the spluttering laugh that followed.

"Burger King?" he had never sounded more incredulous. "I offer you, the ENTIRETY of time and space and you. Want. To. Go. To. Burger. King."

"Yes please," Clara reiterated sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "I'm craving a cheeseburger."

"You know what?" he sounded slightly hysterical and his voice high. "The year 6052. Burger King went out of business over a thousand years ago, but in one tiny corner of Earth, in Northampton Town Centre, there is one left, the final remnant of a once great Burger Empire. Satisfied?"

"Well I'd have settled for the one spitting distance from my house," Clara replied with a smirk. "But I suppose this will do just fine."

As they stepped out of the TARDIS, into a dingy, grotty marketplace, which was run down and long since out of use, they heard the laughter of children, who ran past the TARDIS giggling and Clara heard one of them say: "Oh my God, would you stop almost-lying Kenny!"

She stared at the Doctor, who was completely oblivious. "No way!" she shook her head. "Almost-lying? You just invented it, you absolute…"

"Burger King isn't the only thing that can take over the world!" the Doctor replied smugly.


	76. Schoolboy Crush

***Hello once more. I've been meaning to delve into the world of teenage Whouffle for a while now, so I was pleased to get a prompt over on tumblr asking for the Doctor realising Clara has a crush on him in a school AU. What follows is probably the fluffiest and most awkward Whouffle or scene I've ever written, so I really hope you guys enjoy it. Keep sending them in by review, PM or tumblr me at whovian machine TPD***

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><p>If John Smith had wrote down a list of all the things in the world that he considered to be impossible, then right at the top of that list, directly under the title, with a small number one scribbled next to it would be the phrase: 'Clara Oswald having a crush on me'. Clara Oswald was completely and utterly perfect. She was in John's Maths and Philosophy AS classes and she was probably the smartest person in them, except for him of course, but John always kept quiet in class, sitting at the back so that nobody noticed him, whereas Clara always made an effort to engage actively in the lessons. It helped that she was friends with almost everyone. All the girls loved Clara and all the guys wanted to ask her out. She had a casual demeanour, a flirty laugh but she never led anyone on. She was fierce at times and funny at others and her hair shone. John loved Clara Oswald; she was way too beautiful to belong to this world.<p>

But she'd never spoken to him much, apart from the odd word on the bus or when they worked together in class. Clara always made an effort to interact with everyone that she met, so that they would feel loved, the way that she was. She was such a bubbly person that it was impossible not to hold a conversation with her, and yet John felt so nervous when she was in his vicinity that he was practically a mute. But here was his only friend, Amy Pond, telling him that Clara Oswald, THE Clara Oswald, had a crush. On him. John Smith.

"I don't know what it is," Amy was musing as they shut their lockers. "Maybe it's the ludicrous hair, or the tweed. Maybe she has a bow tie fetish, that's the only explanation I can come up with. Maybe, she's using you to get over some really hot rugby player and you're the complete opposite. No offensive."

"Thanks Pond," John muttered. "Very insightful. Not at all a blow to my ego."

"You'll be at Cambridge this time in two years, I'm sure your ego can handle it," Amy laughed. "Clara Oswald isn't that special you know," Amy informed him and this earned her his prize death glare. "I just mean, she's pretty and smart and kind, but she's just a normal girl. She's not some psycho bitch or crazy person. You can just talk to her."

"Talk?" John spluttered as they walked down the halls. "Talk to Clara Oswald? I can't talk to Clara Oswald!"

"Well, you're going to have to!" Amy smirked wickedly and gave John an almighty shove to the side. He lost his footing and almost collided with a girl who was almost a foot shorter than him. He yelped and she squealed and then he managed to regain his balance and she stood, staring at him, her cheeks flushed and her hair covering her eyes. Clara was wearing a long, red dress, flecked with paint. John knew she did Art and English alongside Maths and Philosophy, whereas he did History and Physics, so that explained the paint flecks. She brushed her curly brown hair off her face and her mouth made a small 'o' as she looked at him. Her friends had mysteriously disappeared and it felt like there was only the two of them in the entire world. John prayed for a miraculous accident, like the ceiling collapsing and killing him instantly.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled, so quietly he was worried she might not hear him.

"Um…" she suddenly seemed to regain her composure, a tight but nervous smile erupting onto her face. "That's alright. John right?"

She didn't even know his name, how could she have a crush on him? He nodded meekly and she stuck out a hand for him to shake, before hastily retracting it and shaking her head. Then she seemed to change her mind again, thrusting it out powerfully and holding it there, as it wavered and twitched. John grasped it and shook, pulling out of the handshake as soon as he thought it was safe to do so. Clara suddenly slapped her own hand to her forehead and winced at herself.

"Clara!" she said sharply and John nodded. "I mean I'm Clara."

"I know," he said quietly. "Everyone knows you Clara."

"Well," she was blushing fiercely. "I mean, not everyone. I'm nothing special."

"You are though," John insisted, before realising what he was saying. His eyes widened in tandem with hers and he stumbled over his next word, stuttering repeatedly. "I mean, um, I, you, I, um…"

"Thanks!" Clara rescued him. "That's really sweet of you to say."

"Right, um…I'll just be going…"

"John!" she called as he tried to turn and do a runner. She winced again and he looked back at her, wishing that this humiliation would end. "Would you…I mean…I was wondering if… wouldyouliketogooutforamealsometime?!" She clasped her hands over her mouth, as if she had just swore in front of a teacher.

"I…I mean…wow…I just…it's that…"

"Oh." She looked utterly crushed. "I mean, just as…it wasn't…I didn't mean…oh God this is so embarrassing!" she turned to run and John summoned up all of his courage.

"I'd love to!" he shouted after her and she swivelled, staring at him in disbelief. "I mean, if you want…we could…sometime…"

"Cool…" Clara looked relieved, her hair once again shielding her face. "I'll see you in lesson…"

"Um…yeah. Sounds good…"

John stumbled off and shot a look over his shoulder to see that Clara was doing the same. He almost walked straight into the back of Amy, who was lounging round the next corner, jumping up and down impatiently.

"So how did it go?" she almost squealed. John looked star struck.

"I think she just asked me out."

Amy screamed so loudly that John's eardrum almost burst and she punched his arm repeatedly. John couldn't believe what had just happened. Directly underneath 'Clara Oswald having a crush on me' on his list of impossible things was 'Clara Oswald asking me out'. He guessed could cross them both off.


	77. Nothing

***Hey guys, this one isn't so much a prompt as nobody sent it in. I was listening to Nothing by The Script and suddenly felt inspired to write Whouffle based on it. If you've not heard the song, listen to it, it's great. It's based on a bloke trying to get over a girl. I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>"You're better off without her mate!" Jack said as he slid the Doctor a pint down the table. The Doctor smiled and drank from it, much faster than he usually did. Rory and Mickey shared a look. The Doctor had been in a bad way for the last couple of weeks, but they were all glad to see him smiling and joking away, much like normal. It was all fake and the Doctor suspected that they knew it too, but Mickey, Rory and Jack were his best mates and they all just wanted to see him happy.<p>

"Yeah," the Doctor replied, half his pint already gone. "You're probably right eh? Who needs Clara Oswald?"

"Here, here!" Rory attested and the gentlemen clinked glasses.

The warning signs were there all evening. They all knew where this mess was going to lead them. After the Doctor's third pint, it was Rory's round and Rory deliberately didn't buy the Doctor one, so he went to get his own, despite Jack's insistence that it was maybe a good idea for him to take a breather. It was after his sixth pint that Mickey suggested they go home, the other gents having had significantly less than the Doctor, who had been drinking like a train. They were only a few steps down the road when he said it.

"Clara!" he said suddenly and sharply. "I need to see Clara."

"Clara dumped you Doctor," Jack said gently. "Remember that?"

"No," the Doctor looked at him fiercely. "You don't understand. I need to see her. I need to see Clara. If I can just see her, and tell her how I really feel, she'll take me back don't you see?"

Jack tried to reason with him, but he was already haring off, in the general direction of Clara's house, with Rory and Mickey in pursuit. Jack swore, the filthiest word that he knew and gave chase, overtaking Rory and Mickey who were losing ground on the sprinting, bow tie wearing maniac charging off drunkenly down the street.

The Doctor thumbed Clara's home number into his phone, still shouting her name like his life depended on it. If he called her mobile, he didn't know that she'd pick up. He was running down the street, going to her. To his Clara. He had lost his friends completely now and all his energy was gone. He staggered on, terrified that he was going to not make it. He had no idea where he was, but he trusted his feet to guide him to her front door. He knew he was drunk, but he didn't care. This time, she'd listen to him, it made sense. She had to. Clara and the Doctor, together forever; that was who they were.

"Hellllo?" she answered, in that adorable way that she did, her sweet voice drifting down the phone like a lullaby.

"Clara!" he slurred drunkenly, stumbling to a halt. He heard her intake sharply. "I'm still in love with you!" The Doctor turned to see Jack had caught up with him.

Nothing. She said nothing. Clara hung up the phone.


	78. Jealousy

***Hi there one and all. Captain Jack makes an appearance in this prompt, based on the Doctor's jealousy. Not my best work, but I hope you like it nevertheless :) TPD***

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><p>The Doctor loved Jack Harkness. Look at him over there, flirting with Clara. His Clara, by the way Jack. It was his ring on her finger after all. She had already agreed to marry him, Jack couldn't possibly convince her otherwise, could he? The Doctor forced himself to calm down as Clara giggled like a maniac at one of Jack's jokes. He strode over and opened his mouth to speak, leaning casually on the railing beside them. Clara stuck a finger onto his mouth and he spluttered.<p>

"Shoo Chin Boy, Jack and I are talking!"

The way she said his name practically purred with lust and the Doctor's eyes widened. He stalked off, watching them for across the console room, unable to control his envy. Clara was still flirting back with him and the Doctor slammed a lever so hard that they both jumped. Clara gave him a curious look, Jack a smug one and returned to talking to Clara. He kissed her hand and the Doctor ran over this time, dragging Clara off of him as she raised an eyebrow questioningly at him.

"Sorry?" she asked sarcastically. "Can I help you?"

"Jack, time for you to go!" the Doctor snapped and Jack chuckled.

"No worries, Doctor. Apologies for flirting with your lady. Until next time ladies and Time Lords!"

"What on earth was that?" Clara shot at him, glaring furiously as Jack shut the TARDIS door behind him. "Jack and I were just having some fun, why are you behaving like such a douche?"

"I'm being a douche?" the Doctor growled. "Look at him, he was all over you."

"Doctor, that's just the way he is!" Clara snapped back. "You know what Jack's like better than anyone, miles better than me. He would never do anything to harm our relationship, so stop being such a jealous idiot!"

She stormed off into the bowels of the TARDIS, the Doctor calling her name after her and kicking the console in frustration. He waited a few minutes and then he went after her, his feet padding across the TARDIS floor. He knocked on the open door to her bedroom and she scowled at him as he sat beside her on her bed and wrapped an arm around her.

"I'm really sorry," he whispered and her scowl softened slightly. "I should never have been such a jealous prick."

"No," she smiled now. "You shouldn't."

She wrapped her arms around him and he kissed her softly.

"I love you," she reiterated. "Nobody else. So stop acting like Mr Grumpy."

"I love you too Clara Oswald. More than anything."


	79. Cricketwin

***An anon on tumblr requested Cricketwin (that's Five/Clara for those of you who don't know). Now Five is a Doctor I am desperate to see more of, and probably will at some point, but in the meantime, I hope I've done justice to the character based on my limited knowledge and experience. As ever, I hope you guys enjoy it, keep sending them in. More to come shortly! TPD***

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><p>For Clara, it was amazing how these things occurred. She had just been on a nice, relaxing walk in the park and there he was, wearing his white jacket with the red trim, celery in his top pocket, playing a game of cricket. He had sent a booming six in her direction and Clara reached to pluck the ball out of the air with her free hand, smiling cheerfully at him as he rushed over, having shouted to warn her about the incoming projectile. He came to a halt in front of her, adjusting his jumper as she smiled coyly and flicked the cricket ball back in his direction. She didn't know which incarnation he was, as she didn't have a numbered map, but she knew him when she saw him. This was the Doctor.<p>

"Are you alright?" he asked, slightly breathless. "I was afraid I'd hit you!"

"Don't worry," she chuckled. "My boyfriend is the clumsiest person alive, I've got very good at dodging and catching. I should get him down here to play, maybe you could teach him a thing or two?" The alarm bells were ringing in her head but she ignored them.

"I'm afraid I shan't be around long," the Doctor replied with a laugh. "I'm not from around these parts!" '_I bet you're not' _Clara thought with an internal giggle. "I'm the Doctor."

"Clara," she replied with a smile. "So what are you doing here?" she asked casually. If there was an alien invasion going on, her Doctor would already be dealing with it. There was no sense both of them getting involved.

"Just stopping by," he said breezily, but Clara noticed he shot a funny look back at the cricket pitch. "Yourself?"

"Umm, I live here?" Clara smirked and he nodded, digesting the information before smiling.

"Right, yes of course. Makes sense. What year is it?"

"Don't you think you should have checked that before?" Clara teased and he frowned.

"Probably."

"It's 2014," Clara informed him. "Why are you here Doctor? Really. You can tell me, I'm good at keeping secrets…"

Before he could answer, the cricket pitch started to rumble, shaking like an earthquake. The Doctor was running over and Clara followed on instinct. She looked around, but sure enough, the shaking was only happening in this area of the park.

"It's localised," she called to him and he grinned back at her.

"Of course it is!" he shouted back. "It's a Balcroon. Crash landed here over forty years ago and it's been hibernating."

"I'm guessing it's woken up?" Clara laughed, moving towards him. "What's the plan?"

"Oh you're good, have you done this before?" he asked and then shook his head, as if to concentrate himself. "I need to get something from my ship. Quick confession, I'm a time traveller. I tracked the Balcroon here but I arrived a teensie bit late."

"Don't you always?" Clara muttered under her breath so that he wouldn't hear.

"But I have something in my ship that can contain it. We need to go, come on."

Everyone else had already scarpered, leaving just Clara and the Doctor. He took her hand and pulled her along after him. They were running for the TARDIS, when something shot out of the air behind them. Clara swore loudly and chanced a look over her shoulder. It was a mammal of some sort, hairless and ferocious. It's teeth could gnaw through solid rock and its feet were like pistons. It was snarling as it chased them. The TARDIS was in sight and the Doctor was fumbling for his key. Clara had no time for such nonsense. She clicked her fingers and the doors crashed open. They threw themselves inside and Clara dived to one side as the Doctor grabbed a small cube off the console and hurled it at the monster as it bounded into the TARDIS.

"How did you do that?" he snapped at Clara, as the creature was suspended in a glow of green light. It snapped and howled but it couldn't move. "That should be impossible."

"Frequent flier's perk," Clara said breathlessly. "I'm just glad the TARDIS is time itself and can remember things and people that haven't happened yet. Anyway, this has been fun, it always is. But I've got a life to get back to. Until the next time one of you idiots crash-lands in my timeline." She turned to leave but he called her back. Clara rolled her eyes and walked over to him.

"You said your boyfriend was clumsy," the Doctor said quietly. "Is it…I mean…"

Clara smiled and leaned up, kissing the corner of his mouth affectionately. She shot him a little wave back over her shoulder, and then she was gone.


	80. Porridge Returns

***This cracking prompt was sent in by Nafinafi7712, who asked for Porridge attempting to woo Clara, much to the Doctor's chagrin. This one is well and truly set in the Transitions verse and there's some fun continuity in here, so I really hope you guys like it! Sherlock crossover up within an hour or so! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had told Clara, very explicitly not to wander off while he went over some calibration statistics in the TARDIS. They had landed in the Imperial Court and he was unsure that they'd landed in the right time period, so he'd just grabbed the nearest thing and was checking that they were at the right time. In the meantime, it was very important that Clara had stayed right next to the TARDIS and not wondered off. The last thing the Doctor needed was her getting arrested and accused of breaking into the Imperial Court. Naturally, Clara had decided to wander off. She was strolling through the Imperium, it's great tapestries and sprawling corridors fascinated her. It was all so gorgeous and ever so slightly dull. Clara leaned against a pillar and it wobbled. She jumped away from it and a familiar laugh rang in her ears.<p>

"I could have you executed for that you know?" Porridge joked, and she grinned as she wheeled around and pulled him into a hug. "Clara Oswald, it has been far too long."

"Likewise," she beamed. "The Doctor should be along shortly, he wanted to make sure we'd landed at the right time. We wanted to check in, see how you were getting on, make sure that the Cybermen hadn't pitched up again."

"I am well and the galaxies are Cyber-free!" Porridge chuckled. "I am also, Clara Oswald, still very lonely. May I throw a banquet in your honour?"

Clara blushed furiously and toyed with her ring. "I'm not sure that that's such a good idea Porridge," she started but he had already clapped his hands and two of his entourage had stepped forwards.

"Nonsense," he grinned. "What's the point in being Emperor if you can't throw impromptu dinners for people you hope to woo?"

"Porridge, I'm actually…" Clara started, but he cut her off.

"It's just dinner Clara," he grinned. "Of course, the Doctor is welcome too. I shall see you two get good accommodation. Dinner will be in 8 hours. If you have no complaints?"

"Well it couldn't hurt…" Clara smiled coyly. This would really annoy the Doctor. Which made it ten times more fun.

"Excellent!" Porridge grinned. "Show Miss Oswald to her room gentlemen!"

Clara was ushered to a luxurious room with a huge bed and an exquisite en-suite. She had just showered when the door found itself under assault from a succession of clamouring knocks. Clara smiled, still in her towel and opened the door, inviting the Doctor in. Only he would knock so vigorously.

"I don't think they wanted us to share a room!" he exclaimed. Clara repressed a giggle. His feathers had well and truly been ruffled. "I had to knock on like twenty doors before I found you."

"Porridge wants to woo me," Clara informed him with a smirk. The Doctor's eyebrows, non-existent as they were, shot up and he choked on his own saliva. He shut the door and moved closer to Clara. "Easy now Doctor," she purred as he was merely inches away from her. "My suitor could come in at any moment."

"Your suitor will have to deal with me," he growled and Clara's towel hit the floor as he kissed her. "Why didn't you tell him we were married?" he asked with a laugh in between kisses, as the Doctor stripped off.

"Because he's throwing us a banquet. Me a banquet," she pulled a face. "Okay, maybe I should have told him, but he didn't exactly give me a chance. I can't exactly tell him now, he might get angry and…"

"Execute me?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow and Clara silenced him with another kiss. "Well if this is our last evening together Clara Oswald, then let's make it worthwhile."

There was a knock at the door. The Doctor swore as Clara pushed him off the bed. He rolled underneath as Clara grabbed her towel and wrapped it back around herself as she crossed the room, still dripping, her cheeks pink. She could almost feel the love bite that the Doctor had been about to give her burning on her neck. Sure enough it was Porridge, who blushed when he saw Clara in her towel.

"My apologies," he smiled. "I merely came to check that you were comfortable." She nodded meekly. "We found the Doctor, he's been assigned a room. I take it that's agreeable to you?" Clara nodded again, not trusting herself to speak. "Excellent, I shall see you this evening, Clara."

The way he said her name didn't fill her with confidence. She shut the door hurriedly and breathed a sigh of relief as the Doctor squirmed out from under the bed, wiping his brow with a cheeky smile.

"Well I thought my days of hiding naked under beds in the Imperial Council were over," the Doctor laughed and Clara shot him an evil look. "Oh relax, it's nowhere near as bad as it sounds. The Emperor's daughter took a shine to me. Oh okay, yeah it's every bit as bad as it sounds, isn't it. Whoops. If it makes you feel better, we only sleep together a dozen times before he caught me and tried to have me executed."

"If you don't shut up in the next five seconds, I'm marrying the Emperor."

"Goddit."

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><p>The banquet was a very fancy affair, with representatives from across the 1000 galaxies, or so Clara was told. She was given a seat of honour by Porridge's side, whilst the Doctor was shunted off to one of the side tables with a few guests from the Frepsilan Galaxy. He at least, seemed to be enjoying himself as he chatted away, although he did shoot her a concerned look every now and then. Clara wanted more than anything to go and sit with him, but nevertheless, she was having fun with Porridge. One time, when she looked over, the Doctor was gone, and Clara frowned as she looked around for him.<p>

"Boo!" he poked his head between her and Porridge. "Sorry to interrupt the banquet…thing, but we have to go Clara."

"Now?" she whined.

"Now?" Porridge sounded even more upset.

"Yes now!" he snapped back. "The babysitter called. Ellie's woken up and is screaming for you. Apparently we're not going to make it back in time. Wibbley-wobbley-timey-wimey."

"Who's Ellie?" Porridge asked carefully and the Doctor realised his mistake, opening and closing his mouth before trying to sidle back to his seat. Clara locked his arm in a vice-like grip. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Ellie is my daughter," Clara said quietly.

"Our daughter," the Doctor put in and Clara squeezed his arm so tightly that he yelped.

"I see…" Porridge sounded dejected and Clara prepared to run. "Well I wish you'd told me sooner Clara, I feel like a right fool. Throwing this dinner, in the hopes of wooing you. I've been dreadfully silly. You should go, your daughter needs you."

"Porridge," she said softly. "I'm sorry."

"No Clara," he smiled wearily but there was pain behind his eyes. "I'm sorry. Go, and do me a favour. Don't come back. I don't think I can take being rejected by you a third time."

Clara bit her lip and got to her feet, releasing her grip on the Doctor's arm as they almost sprinted for the TARDIS.

"We don't have a daughter," Clara laughed. "Inspired thinking Doctor," she giggled.

"Well, not yet," the Doctor chirped. "I wasn't lying though, the babysitter did call. So at some point in the future…"

Clara's heart swelled at the prospect and she squealed a little.

"Wibbley-wobbley-timey-wimey?" she said with a broad smile.

"Exactly."


	81. Sherlolly Crossover

***Hello one and all. LoveLiveLaugh96 (hope that's right) sent in a delightful prompt idea. So here's a Sherlolly/Whouffle crossover, which I really hope you guys like. As ever, let me know your thoughts, keep sending them in and thanks for reading! TPD***

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><p>Clara had thought that he was joking. Clara always thought that the Doctor was joking. She was convinced that this would be another one of those occasions where he made the point and she'd spent a good five minutes trying to tell him that he was lying and determined not to believe his bullshit, before she finally succumbed and asked him the question she was dying to ask him and then he'd look at her like she was so naïve and snort before telling her not to be ridiculous. It would be another Lost City of Atlantis case. The fact that he now pulled the Atlantis one on her on three separate occasions was simply humiliating. So when he'd told her that they were going to meet Sherlock Holmes, she had laughed, leaned back on the TARDIS railing and told him that she wasn't buying it for a moment. They stepped out of the TARDIS, into the morgue and the Doctor straightened his bow tie. He was grinning and examining the walls.<p>

"We made it!" he told her. "Parallel universe alright, I can smell it. Can you smell it Clara, the smell of a parallel universe? You've been to enough of them. Remember the Arrow cave Clara, it smells like the Arrow cave!"

"The Arrow cave smelled of sweat," Clara informed him brusquely. "This smells of dead person. It's a morgue Doctor."

"Of course it's a morgue!" he shot back eagerly. "But it's not just any morgue, it's the morgue of Molly Hooper. Who at this precise moment is two floors above us. Let's go. I didn't want to startle her by dropping the TARDIS right in her lap."

"Oh yeah but the killer with the bow and arrow is a great person to startle!" Clara muttered under her breath as they strolled out the door, aiming for the stairs.

"What was that?" the Doctor looked back at her and she smiled sweetly.

"Nothing!" Clara replied brightly, before rolling her eyes when he looked away. They took the stairs two at a time and when they pushed open the door, Molly Hooper was stood inside, looking incredibly awkward.

"Ahh good Molly!" the Doctor grinned. "I was hoping to find you here. Can you tell Sherlock Holmes to come out of the cupboard please?"

"Sherlock?" Molly laughed nervously. "I don't know what you're…"

"He's hiding in the cupboard," the Doctor replied. "You two were having sex."

"Doctor!" Clara cried exasperatedly. "You can't just…"

"How did you know that?" Molly squeaked, as Sherlock crawled out of the cupboard, completely naked and looking slightly embarrassed.

"Preliminary checks," the Doctor shouted. Except it wasn't the Doctor stood next to Clara, it was a Doctor stood across the room, sticking his head in the door and nodding appreciatively.

"Timey…"

"If you say wimey, I will call off the wedding," Clara snapped and he shut up.

"So let's see," Sherlock stared at them both. Clara kept her eyes focused awkwardly on Molly, who had gone red as a tomato. "You're easy. Blackpool, engaged to him, insecure, dead mother, scared but you don't want to show it, worried about something, always worried about it. Not that he'll run off on you, because you know he won't, deeper than that. You're worried he'll die or that something will happen. He's got a twin brother, hence the trick with the door. Wants me to think he's a time-traveller of some sort, trying to fool me but time traveller is impossible, so ignore that. As for you…"

He turned to the Doctor who was smirking. Clara was thrown completely. Sherlock Holmes was almost as good as they said he was. "You're much harder. You've seen a lot and you're older than you look, maybe 40? You like to trick people into thinking that you're something more than you are and you pretend to be a child and a magician, when all you really are is a damaged and lonely man. Well, not so lonely anymore. I doubt you'll make it down the aisle but there you go. You throw yourself into situations with no regard for the outcome, this marriage is no different. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find my trousers. This was fun Molly, much more fun than I expected."

"Sherlock!" Molly called, but he'd already picked up his trousers and left. The Doctor looked disappointed. Clara was angry. She was storming after Sherlock before the Doctor could stop her.

"Oi!" Clara shouted and Sherlock swivelled to face her. She pressed a finger to his chest. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" she snarled and he raised an eyebrow. "Well you're right, my mum's dead and I'm insecure and I love the Doctor and I constantly worry about losing him. But just because he throws himself into things with no regard for the outcome, doesn't mean that he doesn't love me and it doesn't mean that we won't marry."

Sherlock looked taken-aback. Then he smiled.

"Well you're something else. What was your name?"

"Clara," she snapped.

"Well Clara, tell your soon-to-be husband that it was a pleasure to meet him. He's a scientist right? He's not a medical Doctor, even if you call him that."

And then, Sherlock Holmes was gone. Clara was angry and stormed back into the room.

"We're leaving," she told the Doctor. "Pleasure to meet you Molly."

"I…um."

Molly didn't get the chance to say anything else as Clara dragged the Doctor along behind her. She was livid and she practically threw him into the TARDIS.

"Why are we here?" she suddenly yelled at him and the Doctor shrugged.

"I wanted to see if he could tell I was an alien," he replied. "I guess not."

"Take me home," Clara shot back. "I've had enough of Sherlock Holmes to last a lifetime."

It was only after they landed that the Doctor had found the post-it-note, wedged inside the phonebox so that it didn't fall off saying the following:

_Alien. Time Machine. Over 1000 years old. You can't marry her. Spare her the pain. SH_


	82. Fast Food

***So an anon over on tumblr suggested a prompt where one or more of the Doctor and Clara work in a fast food restaurant and meet. I could have played this for laughs, but took a more straight laced approach. I hope you guys like it! TPD***

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><p>Clara Oswald had never been more humiliated in her entire life. She was going to kill him. She wasn't just going to kill him; she was going to kill him, set fire to his corpse and fire it on a rocket to Mars. Her father was a jerk. Beyond a jerk. He was a prick. As she shovelled McDonalds into her face at an alarming rate, she almost puked. The next time her father threatened to shoot one of her one-night stands before they'd even had the chance to do the deed, she was going to shag the bloke in front of him, just to see his reaction.<p>

Clara knew that she was in a pretty bad state. This was the fifth bloke that she would have slept with this month. The previous four had either been quieter sneaking in or had had a free house. She'd also tossed another one off in the club toilets, but then she'd thrown up and he hadn't been arsed to take care of her. So, her dad had sworn off whatever his name had been, she'd kicked off and the net result was that she was here, at McDonalds, at 2am, with only a handful of drunks and three staff members plus security for company. She finished her burger and fries and went up to order another. She ordered two this time, so she wouldn't have to go back up. She was ravenous, still slightly tipsy and desperate to eat away her pain. It had only been a year or so since she'd lost her mum and she'd recently discovered that the combination of alcohol, a fake ID and sleazy blokes at the very least made her feel numb and on the odd occasion, was even enjoyable.

The boy she ordered off looked scared of her, with her running mascara and fierce tone of voice. A couple of minutes later, a different worker plonked himself down opposite her. She looked up briefly from her hamburger to snarl at him and then returned to her food. He merely raised an eyebrow.

"You look dreadful," he informed her and she looked up to study him, a permanent glare fixed onto her face. He was wearing the McDonalds uniform, but he had a tweed jacket and bow tie plastered on top. "If you don't mind my asking, why don't you go home and get some sleep?"

"Because," Clara spat and then decided that she really wanted to cry. Her anger was replaced with a raw, bitter sadness, that penetrated every fibre of her being. She felt sick, but that may have been the combination of stuffing her face and too much booze. "Because my dad wouldn't want me there. I stormed out."

"Why?" he asked. His voice was friendly and kind, his eyes full of love, even though they'd never met. "What happened?"

"My mum died!" Clara said. That may not have happened that night, but it was the explanation for everything that had happened since. "I mean, she died a long time ago. But alcohol and sex seemed like two great solutions. I guess you could say me and my dad had a disagreement about my choice of suitor."

"Sounds like he's just worried about you," the boy said kindly. Clara glared at him. "If you need somewhere to crash tonight, my sofa is free. But I'd suggest you go home to your dad. He seems like he's worried about you. And if you ever need to talk, I'm here most days. Here's my number anyway though," he pulled a pen and scribbled something onto a napkin. He smiled at her and stood to walk out. Clara looked at the napkin. His number was on there, as well as a little smiley face and a kiss.

"Clara!" she blurted and he turned back to face her. "My name is Clara."

"Pleasure to meet you Clara," he replied. "I'm the Doctor."


	83. You Will Be Mine

***Hey guys, song prompt sent in anonymously on tumblr, asking for a prompt to the lyrics of You Will Be Mine by Lenka. I'd never heard it before, so I may have done badly with it, but I tried to stay close to the lyrics. Nevertheless, I thought this song was a touch creepy so I hope you guys like it! TPD***

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><p>There was a new family moving in next door. They were called the Oswalds. They came over to visit on their first day in the neighbourhood. John's mum had chatted away with Dave Oswald, a widowed father, leaving John alone with his seventeen year old daughter Clara, the same age as him. Clara was very quiet and didn't say a lot in the time that she was over. John could gather that she missed her mum a lot and he also discovered that she claimed she'd never been in love.<p>

Over the next few weeks, Clara Oswald tried her best to stay away from John and just about anyone. It appeared for all the world as if she wanted no connection with the outside world whatsoever, for fear that it would break her. But he couldn't tell. Whenever they met at school, she would sweep past him, like he wasn't even there.

He could hear her, every night. She would sit on her chest of drawers, staring out the window, watching the sky. Her lights were low, but he could hear her calling out softly, for someone to take away her pain. It was as if she was waiting for a shooting star, so that she could wish herself another life. She must really miss her mother, John thought. He tried to call out into the darkness, hoping that she could hear him. He deeply cared for this girl.

John spent weeks trying to catch her eye, trying to make himself the centre of her world, but she didn't bite. So he tried to think of a battle plan, a way to make Clara see exactly how alike, how intertwined they could be. He was falling for her hard and all he wanted was to make her his, for them to be together. She was trying so hard to ignore him, but he could see it was there. She spoke to him occasionally, but then she'd shut herself away again. And then, the whole time, she would stare out her window, desperately looking for a shooting star, someone to take away her pain. She could never love John, because she couldn't lose him, the way she'd lost her mum.

He had started writing her love letters. Clara kept them next to her bed, folded away so that she wouldn't be forced to read them. But they were all written in red, and they reminded her what she knew. That he was always there for her, like an angel waiting in the wings to take her to the better life that Clara had always craved. But she kept on crushing his hopes, because it was the only thing she knew how to do.

But John knew. It may take a little time. But she would be his. And all the love notes were signed: "You will be mine."


	84. Jail Red Believe Mirror

***My good people! I come bearing another prompt. The amazing xandrota is a magnificent torture artist, so here's another one of their creative prompts: red, believe, mirror and jail. I did what I could with them and I really hope you guys like it! As ever, keep sending them in. TPD***

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><p>Believe, he'd told her. Believe and she would make it out. He was coming for her. Yet it had been three months and Clara Oswald was still stuck in this dingy prison cell. She had to have faith, she told herself. Because she knew how to get out. She had been schmoozing the guard on the door for weeks, ever since she'd got in in truth. He had immediately taken a shine to her, with her glossy hair and cute dress, her sweet smile and her puppy dog eyes. Of course, her hair wasn't glossy anymore, it was long and ragged and her cute dress had been thrown away along with all her other clothes. They had sneered when she'd asked for them to keep them for when she got out. She was never getting out. This was her sentence. Triple life sentences. All because of him. If she wasn't so in love with him and if she didn't know how necessary it was and if she wasn't 100% sure that he would for her, she might almost have been angry. She might have started believing that it was his fault. But it wasn't, not really. Nevertheless, her smile was still sweet and her eyes still puppy dog. So she could still twist his arm. She had to kiss him occasionally, but there was no harm in that, Clara had decided. Not if it finally got her out of there. Finally, she had what she needed. An opening.<p>

She was going to have sex with him. Not really of course, but he thought she was going to, and that was all that really mattered. She just had to believe. She believed. The guard had left her a pretty dress, some rudimentary makeup and, crucially, a mirror. He would be ten minutes, waiting for her to change. She could already hear the jeers of her fellow prisoners. She was cheap, she was a whore. She was going to get what she deserved. Clara blotted it all out. Believe. She took the mirror and checked her reflection. She looked every bit as dreadful as she expected. Pale, grubby and lank. She didn't care. Appearances weren't going to get her out of there. That was what the mirror was for. Clara took a deep breath. Believe.

She smashed the mirror against the wall and picked up one of the broken pieces. The jeering had got louder now. Clara breathed deeply and pressed the mirror shard to her thin stomach. Believe. She stabbed hard, slashing inwards. Clara screamed and blood shot out of her, red, thick and sticky. Believe. Believe. It was harder to believe as her vision went red and she stumbled. Her entire world was red now and she collapsed. The guards were shouting. Clara needed to hang on. Believe. She could hear them and she smiled slightly.

"Get the Doctor!"

Clara get herself awake, forced herself to. The prison doctor ran in, swearing under his breath. He had kind eyes. Her kind eyes. It was him. The prison doctor wasn't just any doctor, he was her Doctor.

"Clara," he whispered. "I'm here. We need to get her to a hospital!" he announced.

The rest of the day was a blur. But Clara believed. She had done her bit, the rest was up to him. They arrived at the hospital and Clara was handcuffed to a gurney as they stitched her up. The wounds weren't as bad as they first appeared and she was to be transferred to the hospital ward. But they didn't know what she knew. She believed in her Doctor. Sure enough, he slipped into her room and winked at her.

"Let's get you out of here," he said gently. He soniced open the handcuffs and they climbed out the open window. The TARDIS was parked down a back alley and once they were inside, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. "So!" he grinned. "Three months. How was it? Did you get what you needed?"

"You mean did I get the plans?" Clara beamed and opened her mouth, pulling out the false cap to her tooth. "Did you really think that I'd let you down?"

He kissed her, a long, passionate kiss. She winced at the pain and he examined her stomach once more.

"Good job," he informed her. "Nice and clean. Should be fine in a week. Now, go and sleep, you look awful. I redid your bedroom. The TARDIS helped."

Clara smiled back at him once more and then went to sleep in her own bed, for the first time in far too long…


	85. Planet of the Claras

***This one isn't really a prompt, so much as something that I really wanted to write. The Doctor is trapped on a planet that is about to be engulfed by a supernova. His only companions? Clones. Clones that have stolen his TARDIS. And who are they clones of...Well, I really wanted to delve into the Doctor's unhealthy obsession with Clara. I hope you enjoy. TPD***

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><p>The second that the Doctor woke up, he knew he was in trouble. This had been a bad idea, a very bad idea. Such a bad idea. Go and watch a sun supernova first hand he'd thought. It would be fun he'd thought. What he hadn't counted on was that the planet that he'd landed on would be inhabited. He had thoroughly expected it to be abandoned. Every other planet in the system would be. Their star was about to explode in like six hours. Why the hell were they still here? The Doctor sighed and picked himself up. He was trapped in a light cell, guarded by two people, both short and both heavily armoured, wearing helmets and fancying away from him. They were silent, but there was something familiar about them, something that the Doctor couldn't quite put his finger on. They'd captured him rather easily. He had stepped out the TARDIS, extended the extrapolator shielding so that when the star exploded, he wouldn't be engulfed and then he'd wandered off just a little way, looking for something to amuse himself for a few hours. Suddenly, there had been armed guards everywhere, all that same short height, all armoured and all wearing helmets. They'd tranquilised him and they must've brought the TARDIS with them, the Doctor assumed. Their way off of the planet. Why couldn't they have just asked nicely?<p>

He tapped the door to his light cell. He could deactivate it in a heartbeat. The sonic could tap into the door's opening mechanism and set him free. But where would the good in that be? They'd shoot him on the spot and then he'd have to regenerate or worse. Better to play it cool. He cleared his throat. One of them turned to flip him off, but otherwise, they remained unmoved.

"Um, why am I here?" the Doctor asked politely and the other one flipped him off this time. How rude. "Listen, your planet is going to explode in…ah. Two hours. So I'd really like to be out of here when it does."

They both turned, as if to look at him. He could see them, drinking him in, he could almost see the confused expressions on their faces behind their helmets. They didn't know, he realised with a jolt. They didn't know that their planet was going to burn, that they were all going to die. All of them. Him included. They had to let him go. He might never see Clara again, he realised, his stomach curling at the thought. He'd never got a chance to tell her how he felt.

"Please, listen to me!" he cried out. "Your star is going to supernova, we're all going to die. You have to let me out, I have a ship that can take us away from here."

The guards turned away from him. He could hear one of them talking into a headset in a very low voice that he could barely pick out. The voice was vaguely familiar but he couldn't hear it well enough to close it down. It was definitely female but it was being distorted. The Doctor needed to talk to them, to get off of this planet. He couldn't even remember the name of it. He'd chosen it on a whim. Didn't that just sum him up? Of all the planets in this particular solar system, he'd chosen the one with the crazy, hostile, unaware they were about to die population?

He could hear footsteps coming and he strained so that he could see who it was coming to visit him. It was another guard, only her black, leather uniform was trim with red, meaning that she was clearly a higher rank. Judging by their almost identical shape, height and form, the Doctor had deduced that the soldiers were clones. Which meant that whoever was in charge, was probably their clone batch leader. The guard in the red trim walked straight past the two other guards and pressed a button on the wall to deactivate the cell doors.

"Well I could have done that for you," the Doctor grabbed and she grabbed his arm gruffly, throwing him out the cell and pointing her gun at him.

"Walk!" she growled, her voice distorted but still annoyingly familiar.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" the Doctor asked with a frown and then she nudged him with the gun and he was walking. He looked around. There was nobody much around, but he caught a glimpse of a brunette walking down a corridor and when he reached a window, he gazed out over the citadel for a moment before the gun was back against his back and he was moving. He was being manoeuvred into a giant room and it was lined with guards. The TARDIS was at the head of the room, but the Doctor didn't dare run to it, for fear of being shot. All of the guards were dressed in black and there appeared to be no leader.

"So who's in charge," the Doctor frowned. "Take me to your…oh…" he grinned and spun. "It's you isn't it red trim? You're a warrior and presumably the Queen, my kind of girl. Now, then show us your face. Or rather, show us their face, seeing as you're all clones anyway."

The leader took off her helmet and the Doctor's jaw hit the floor. He stepped away from her, frowning and looking around. It couldn't be. Not again. Not another one. It was Clara. She had a fiercer face, shorter hair and larger muscles, but it was Clara alright. Clara Oswald. The girl he had fell in love with.

"Who are you?" he snapped and she glared at him. He scanned her. There was nothing abnormal about her. Just like all of the others. "Clara Oswald? Yes? How are you possible?"

"Clara Oswald," she said sharply. "How did you know that? Step back Chin-Boy!" she snarled as he approached her. "How do you know who I am? My ship crash-landed six months ago, I used the cloning technology at my disposal to inhabit the planet so that I wasn't bored. This is the guard unit. The planet was built with houses, provisions, weapons, it was a perfect settlement. But it was abandoned. We don't know why. Or at least, we didn't, until today. You claim this star is going to supernova?"

"We're all dead in just over 90 minutes, unless you let me go," he insisted. "I have my ship, I can take you home. On one condition."

"What's that?" she snapped.

"Tell me who you are."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me who you are, Clara Oswald. Because I met you in Victorian London, in the Dalek Asylum and in London in 2013. So what are you? A trick, a trap? Are you trying to lead me somewhere hm? At first I thought you were just lucky, but you're too good. You're all too perfect, too convenient. So what are you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Clara shouted, flustered. "Now take me home, or I'll shoot you!"

"Now you wouldn't," the Doctor snarled. "Without me, you roast. No, you need me and I'm not helping you unless you tell me what you are."

"I just told you!" she screamed. "I'm Clara Oswald, I am human from the 56th Century. I crashed here, repopulated the planet. I'm nothing to you. I don't want to lead you anywhere, all I want to do is go home!"

He wanted to believe her, he really did. Modern day Clara knew nothing either, he'd learned that when his TARDIS had almost exploded. She was just Clara. But she was impossible. And this Clara, another Clara. He couldn't let her go without knowing the truth. He wouldn't let her. More Claras were raising their guns now and the Doctor only needed one of them to get trigger happy and he was toast. But if they were Clara, they wouldn't get trigger happy. Then, he didn't really know Clara that well at all, did he? Who knew what she was capable of?

"Clara," he said gently. "We can go, you and me. But you have to help me. Help me figure out who you are."

But her gun was up again. The Doctor was angry now. He needed to get off this planet and Clara was not going to help things. But he needed to know. Then he noticed, the guns of the other Claras. They weren't all pointing at him.

"You're not going to leave us behind, are you?" a sharp voice shot out and the Doctor winced. "You may be the original, but we're all real. We're all Clara."

Suddenly, it hit him. All in one go. Hundreds of Claras. A planet of Claras. If he were to take them to the far ends of the universe, wipe their memories… A paradox in action. The Doctor jumped up and laughed. He had figured out the mystery. Then, the arguments started. The Doctor could see the real Clara losing control as she started shouting the guns were all pointing at each other and then, just as the Doctor had shouted to calm down, the gunfire had started. The Doctor ducked and ran, thinking of nothing but getting to the TARDIS as Claras dropped like flies. The real Clara was riddled with bullets and he shouted her name as he reached the TARDIS. And then they were firing on him and he realised. They were savage. No civilisation, no control and they had lost it completely. They weren't Clara. His Clara. He shut the doors behind him and stalked over to the console. He punched the switches and levers, furious with himself and with the clones. He landed the TARDIS and tried to relax when there was an adorable knock at the door.

"Clara!" he greeted, faux cheerfully as she entered. He decided to put all the Planet of the Claras nonsense behind him. She was what was important. "Where to this time?"


	86. The Fear of Losing You

***This one is for whouffletothemax, who has a superb amount of angst, as the next prompt after this will testify. Anyway, the Doctor is feeling scared about the prospect of losing Clara the way that he lost the prompts. Featuring...12! This wasn't originally supposed to be a Souffaldi but when I started, it made more sense in my head. I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>How could he tell her? How could anyone? When all you had had your entire life, your entire lives, was death, how could you possibly tell someone you loved that you loved them? The Doctor needed Clara around him, she was like his drug. He loved her more than he had loved anyone in a very long time. But he'd just got a new regeneration cycle. He was good for twelve new bodies. It had been different in his Eleventh incarnation. He had known that he had no more regenerations, that his body could go at any moment. He felt, almost mortal. And Clara had helped him, contributed to that. He had loved her, and now he loved her more, if that was possible. But this time, if he died, he would come back. But she was still mortal. He'd lost the Ponds. He'd lost River. Rose, Donna, Martha, everyone he cared about had left him. And maybe that was better. But not this time, not with Clara. He needed her more than he needed a companion in a long time.<p>

She wasn't always there, wasn't always in his TARDIS, by his side. Not anymore. She had a life, a real life, and he respected that. But he also needed her. And it hurt. It hurt to know that he might have to go another 2000 years living without Clara Oswald. The Doctor couldn't let her in, or she'd snap his hearts in two. The TARDIS touched down and he slumped his forehead against the console. The doors opened and he swivelled, attempting to look normal as she walked in, wearing a stunning red dress that clung tight to her body and matching heels. She'd had her hair done, all nice and proper and she was wearing a lot of red makeup. She looked utterly gorgeous. It made the Doctor want to punch the console again. So he did. Damn, this new regeneration really did act on impulse. Clara raised her eyebrows at him and he shrugged. She shook it off. She was used to the new him being weird.

"You look beautiful," he informed her, before punching the console again in frustration.

"Are you okay?" she laughed. "Console punching and compliments?"

"I always compliment you!" he insisted and she snorted. "I do!"

"You said my nose was looking less out of line."

"That's a compliment!"

"Yes, but it's not a good compliment. So, I dressed up fancy for a reason handsome, you promised to take me dancing."

"Yes," the Doctor smiled and she saw right through it. "I did."

He was flipping levers and switches, but she'd moved closer to him and was examining his face with an irritating curiosity. She put her hand on his cheek and his other hand slammed into the middle pillar so hard he thought they would both break. Clara jumped back startled and he smiled at her again, this one cracking under the pressure.

"You've been crying," she said. It wasn't a question. She took the Doctor's cheeks in her hands and manoeuvred him so he was facing her and couldn't face anything. She glanced at his hand and snatched it up, tutting as she looked it over. "What's wrong?" she asked, in a voice so gentle that it took all his strength not to punch something again. Not that she'd let him. "Doctor, you're punching things and you've been crying. Even by your standards, this is weird. Let me in."

"I can't," he insisted, the Scottishness of his voice coming thick and fast as he got more upset. "Don't you see Clara? I already care about you too much. I care about so much that it hurts. That I have to break my flaming hand just to make the pain go away. And if I let you in, if I let myself care about you…"

"Hey!" she cut him off, pulling him close to her and wrapping her arms around him. "Hey, what are you afraid of? I'm not going anywhere Doctor. I know I have a life outside those doors, but that doesn't decrease how important you are to me."

"No," he shot back. "You don't understand Clara. If I let myself love you, the way I love you, then when you die and I'm left alone in this stupid box, with another 2000 years ahead of me, I don't know how I'll cope!"

This, to Clara's credit, didn't throw her. She merely pulled him tighter and kissed him gently on the cheek. He pulled her in and decided, in that moment, that he never wanted to let her go. His Clara. He may not still be her Doctor, but she was damn sure still his Clara.

"I love you," Clara whispered and the Doctor's heart skipped a beat. He kissed her and she replied in kind. "I know that you don't want to hear that, but until I die, I will be here for you. And I know you. You know as well as I do that when I'm gone, there'll be someone to fill my place. And that's okay, as long as we enjoy the time that I'm here. As long as we make the most of every second Doctor. And when I'm gone, you can find someone to pick up the pieces. Just make sure that you remember the good times we had."

"For the next 2000 years Clara Oswald," he replied, holding her so tight, he was worried he would crush her. "I will never forget these times. And who knows, I might even get to die for you."

"If you're lucky," she giggled. "Now come on mopey, you promised me dancing."


	87. Clara is Dying

***Because the wonderful whouffletothemax is a very cheery soul, here we have another one of their prompts, asking for the Doctor to have Clara Oswald die in his arms. Jesus this was a barrel of laughs to write (not). I upped the depressing, just for you guys, I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>How could he let this happen? The Doctor yelled as he ran through the crowds, desperate to reach Clara before it was too late. They had landed in Revolutionary France and mistaken her for an aristocrat, a member of the French royals. He pelted through the crowds, his navy coat flowing in the wind, exposing his red undercoating to the world. He ploughed on, he could practically hear the axe swishing. But she was still shouting his name. Whilst she was still shouting, she was still alive. And whilst she was still alive, there was still hope. If there was one thing the Doctor had learned in over 2000 years of time and space, it was that there was always hope, at least while Clara Oswald was still breathing. He followed the sound of her voice, clinging to it like a beacon of hope. He burst into the square. There was a row of guards between him and the executioner. New plan. The Doctor headed back into the crowds, counting the seconds. He had a minute at most. The Doctor whipped round, shoving people aside, ducking punches that were thrown and pushing anyone who got in his way. He didn't care about them. He cared about Clara.<p>

He had almost travelled the 180 degrees he'd needed to, so he cut back inside, frantic now, knowing that the countdown gave him seconds. He could hear the clock begin to clamour. When it was finished, the axe would fall. He ran faster than ever, hurtling through the crowd and then he was directly behind Clara. He soniced the guillotine.

"Run!" he yelled and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him as the guillotine fell but not onto Clara's head. They were moving swiftly now, back towards the TARDIS, with the guards in pursuit. The Doctor laughed. He had been terrified that that was it, that he was going to lose her. Not today. Not today. They had almost reached the TARDIS when the firing started. The Doctor ducked low. Bullets from Revolutionary France would take ages to reload. They could easily get into the TARDIS before the next barrage. He clicked his fingers and the doors flew open. But Clara had suddenly become a dead weight on the end of his arm.

He froze and swirled and she fell forwards, into his arms. He cried out and dragged her into the TARDIS, ducking more gun fire and clicking the doors shut. Clara was bleeding, from two separate places in her chest. Bullet wounds. The Doctor felt anger and pain rising up within him but he supressed them. He needed to be brave. For Clara.

"Doctor?" she whispered and then choked.

"I'm here Clara!" he sobbed. "I'm here. You're going to be fine, I promise."

"I'm going to die," she coughed and the Doctor let out an anguished howl. How could this happen? His Clara. He had only just rescued her. He supposed he could hardly call it a rescue. He hadn't even got her into the TARDIS without getting her shot. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me. I'll be with my Doctor."

He broke into a fresh wave of sobs and screamed, an animalistic screech that echoed throughout the silent TARDIS. If the French were still trying to get in, he couldn't hear them. They didn't matter. They were lucky. If they got into the TARDIS, he would probably kill each and every one of them. For Clara.

"I love you," she choked. "But I'll be in a better place. With my Doctor, so don't despair."

"Am I your Doctor?" he asked suddenly. He needed to know. Did she mean him? Or his last incarnation, his 11th incarnation. Was he still her Doctor? Was he the Doctor that she would be with?

"Run you clever boy," she whispered. "And remember me."

And then, as the Doctor alternated between whimpering and shouting at the top of his lungs, Clara Oswald died in his arms. One last time. And he never found out if he was her Doctor.


	88. Clara Has Surgery

***Yet another prompt, I am on fire tonight! This makes double digits for the day! Three more to come as well :P Anyway, this one is much lighter than the last few. Clara has minor surgery and the Doctor takes good care of her. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor could not believe that he had walked into this one. When Clara had called him and told him that she was in the hospital, he had materialised outside, taken the stairs two at a time, rugby tackled three nurses, been kicked out by security, snuck back in through the service lift, soniced the computers to find her, accidently tackled another nurse, got kicked out again, got back in through the service lift and snuck into Clara's room, desperate to make sure that she was alright. Only to find out that it was an appendectomy. The simplest, easy to perform, lowest recovery time piece of routine surgery. And she had had no complications. The Doctor glared at her as she shrugged.<p>

"I'm going to be on bed rest for the next few days," she informed him. "I needed you to come and take care of me!"

"You could have told me it was nothing serious!" he protested.

"But then you wouldn't have been as quick!" Clara winked. The Doctor grumbled but knew that she was right. "Can you take me home please?"

The Doctor sighed. He slipped Clara into the service lift and they travelled down to the service exit, answering all of her questions about why they were doing it with a "shhh!". He straightened his bow tie as he carried Clara from the exit to the TARDIS and then lay her down on the sofa before taking off. She promptly fell off the sofa because of his dreadful flying and when he went to check on her, she was sprawled over the TARDIS floor, groaning in pain.

"Well what are you doing down there?" he scolded her, propping her up and then helping her into her house. He promptly sent her to bed and as she lay back, he went to leave when she called to him.

"Can I have some soup?" she asked pitifully. "The nurse said no solid food for twelve hours, but I'm allowed liquids and nice, hot tomato soup is most definitely a liquid. Please? I'm really very ill. I could have died."

Normally, the Doctor didn't respond well to emotional blackmail. But this was Clara, and she was giving him her most winning smile and her biggest puppy dog eyes. He swept her fringe off her forehead so he could kiss it and nodded caringly. Clara closed her eyes and by the time the Doctor returned with her soup, she was fast asleep. He heaved a sigh of relief. Finally he could leave her in peace. He placed the soup beside her head, and tiptoed out the room. He had almost made it, when he slipped on one of her bras and he came crashing down, waking Clara instantly.

"Doctor?" she mumbled sleepily. "Ah good, you're still here. While I eat my soup, is there any chance you could grade a couple of papers for me? They're due tomorrow…"

The Doctor groaned. Clara gave him her pleading eyes and he sighed before racing downstairs to finish them. No sooner had he finished the papers and almost made it to the front door when he heard his name echoing through the house. He took the stairs two at a time and saw Clara sitting with an empty soup bowl, smiling sweetly as sugar.

"Can I have some more please?" she asked, fluttering her eyelids. "And can you grab me my pain meds from my purse? And a cup of tea? And when you've done all that, stick around, I may need a hand with some more bits and bobs…"

It turned out, that a few more bits and bobs involved running Clara a bath, seeing as how she couldn't stand long enough to shower. Clara started undressing herself, the Doctor trying hard to look away.

"You know, you're going to have to carry me into the bathroom in my underwear, you are going to have to look you know?" she laughed and he shook his head. She reached out to touch his shoulder tentatively and he turned. She was in her bra and knickers and blushing furiously. The Doctor responded with a similar blush, clearing his throat. He propped her up so that she could make it to her bathroom, keeping his eyes fixed on her face. She giggled slightly to relieve the tension and once the bathroom door was slammed shut, he raced out to the TARDIS. He needed a trip, any trip, just to relieve his brain. But he couldn't leave Clara. And if he got his timing wrong on the reverse trip…He sighed and headed back inside. When Clara was done in the bathroom, he half-carried her back to her bedroom and helped her redress, desperately covering his eyes at points as he helped her back into bed.

"Thank you," she whispered and he sat on the end of her bed. "For all of your help today. I realise you have better places to be, saving the world and all of that nonsense."

"Clara Oswald," he smiled. "I have nowhere better to be in the entire world than right here by your side."

"And thanks for the dressing thing," she said even more quietly, causing him to blush. "I'm sure it's been centuries since you've seen a woman in her underwear."

"Longer since I've seen anyone so beautiful," he replied before he could stop himself. They both went pink and her eyebrow shot up. "I mean. Clara. You're beautiful. Not that I was looking. I meant your eyebrows. Your eyebrows are beautiful. Very…distinct. They don't meet in the middle, good sign of a sturdy eyebrow."

"Did you just call my eyebrows sturdy?"

"No. Did you call my eyebrows sturdy?"

"Do I look like a liar to you?"

"Oi!"

Clara giggled. She patted the side of the bed next to and the Doctor's somewhat less than sturdy eyebrows significantly raised. She patted again for emphasis and he gulped, before climbing awkwardly over her into the bed next to her.

"Under the covers you dolt," she chuckled and he did. She felt for his hand and took it and then she leaned forwards and kissed his cheek. "Stay with me?" she asked gently.

"Always Clara Oswald. Always."


	89. Groundhog Day

***Hey guys, we're on the final stretch, but feel free to keep on sending in your prompts, they're fantabulous (a word i should never be allowed to use again or be stripped of my testes). Anyway, this one was sent in anon on tumblr, I hope you guys like it and I hope that you're all familiar with the concept of Groundhog Day... TPD***

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><p>As much as the Doctor loved the TARDIS, sometimes it could be a real pain in the arse. When Clara had asked him what the problem was, he'd merely reply: "timey-wimey". Every single day. She would come traipsing into the console room at what roughly equivocated to 9am human time, dressed in her pink fluffy dressing gown, with red tank top and jogging bottoms beneath it. She would ask him where they were headed that day. The Doctor would turn around to Clara and inform her that they were stuck in the vortex for a day, whilst the TARDIS soaked up all the excess radiation in order to ensure that she was properly fuelled. Clara would look slightly dejected for exactly 3 minutes and 42 seconds (and the Doctor had counted twenty times) and then she would perk up, when the Doctor suggested a film marathon. They would watch the same two films: Tangled and Frozen and then Clara would suggest lunch. She would fail to make a soufflé, so they would eat leftover pizza from the day before, at which point Clara would ask the Doctor what was bothering him. Because she always knew. And he would reply "timey-wimey" because it was easier than explaining. Not that she wouldn't understand. But if he explained, she'd forget by the next day and the repeat, so he might as well spare her the burden. It was like they were trapped in the human film, Groundhog Day. He was living the same day over and over. Clara, of course, didn't notice. But the Doctor did.<p>

Of course, the technical way of putting it was that they were caught in a temporal loop. The Doctor didn't know how to stop it happening, but he knew one thing. The TARDIS was behind it. He didn't know why either. If he knew why, he could stop this chaos. After lunch, they would watch all three Lord of the Rings films. The Doctor would quote every line in the films, despite Clara asking him not to and by the end, Clara was so furious, she would storm off to bed.

One thing that changed every time was proximity. Knowing full well that if he fucked it up, he'd be able to try again the next day, the Doctor was snuggling progressively closer to Clara each day. They'd started off at opposite ends of the sofa, but by the end of the third week of the Doctor's nightmare, she was lying in his lap. Nothing changed. It took the Doctor another week to snap. He should have snapped earlier, but having Clara lie in his lap made it all that much more worthwhile. But, at the end of what had by this point been over a month of insanity, when Clara asked him for the 33rd time what was wrong, instead of replying: "timey-wimey", he lost it.

"Do you want to know why I am not okay Clara? Because I have been living in a nightmare! Every single day, for the last month, I have had you coming into the console room in the same dressing gown, with the tank top and the joggers. And you've asked me where we're going. And every day for over a month, we've been stuck in transit. So we've watched Frozen and Tangled in the morning, then had lunch and you've asked me what's wrong and I've said timey-wimey. Then, in the afternoon, we'll watch all three Lord of the Rings films and I'll have seen them so many times, 33 straight days in fact, that I will quote them line for line and you will get angry and storm off. We are stuck in a time loop Clara, that the TARDIS will not let us leave. And I am stuck, living the same day with you, forever."

Clara looked stunned for a moment, as if she didn't know how to breathe. She took a deep breath and took a step back and the Doctor realised that she looked heartbroken.

"So living every day snuggled up with me is a nightmare?" she asked him, her voice breaking. "The idea of spending the rest of our lives, cuddling is so horrific to you?"

"No!" the Doctor shot back and she raised an eyebrow. It was now or never Doctor. "The reason it's a nightmare is that every day, when you're lying across my chest, all I want to do is kiss you. But every single fucking day, no matter how hard I try, I cannot convince myself that kissing you is the right move. And I am stuck in a nightmare, knowing that if I had some courage, just for a moment, I could turn it into a dream. But even knowing I have an infinite amount of shots at it, I'm still too scared to make the first move."

And then Clara kissed him, a long passionate kiss that seemed to last for an eternity. They were stuck in a moment of breathing, tongue locking magic. They were undressing each other now and for once, once in 34 days, everything was different. They crawled into bed, biting and clawing at each other, stripping each other down, in order to build themselves back up again.

They spent the rest of the day in bed, curled up, chatting, kissing and more of the other thing. At the end of the day, the Doctor fell asleep and when they woke the next morning, they were still there. The TARDIS wheezed and crashed and then it landed.

"We did it," the Doctor gasped. "We broke the time loop! I guess that was what she was after. All the TARDIS wanted was for us to finally go that extra mile!"

"Oh Chin-Boy," Clara chuckled. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special."


	90. Bittersweet News

***Hey one and all, it's been a long day, but I hope you're still with me, we're on the final stretch, just a handful left! This one is the cheeriest yet. Clara is alone and gets some game-changing news. As ever, thanks for the anon who sent it in, thanks to everyone who reads and reviews and never feel afraid to send them in, either by review or PM, or over on tumblr at whovianmachine if you want to go anonymous :) TPD***

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><p>It had been two months. Two months since the Doctor had died. Two months since Clara Oswald had held the man she loved as he died in her arms. And all everyone did was say they were sorry. Like they'd known him. Like her father or Angie or Nina or Tom from work could ever appreciate him. He had showed her the whole of time and the whole of space. But more than that, he had showed her himself. He had showed her his whole self and she had lapped it up. They had fallen in love so quickly and so deeply. And all people thought of her was just another girl with a dead boyfriend. They didn't realise everything she had lost. The TARDIS was still sat in her flat, gathering dust. Clara didn't know how to fly her and she wouldn't leave Clara alone. Clara had screamed a lot at the TARDIS, running inside, kicking the console and demanding to talk to the TARDIS interface, which had ignored her every time. She had flipped switches and levers, anything to get her active again. But the TARDIS was nonrespondant. It was as if it had died, along with the Doctor.<p>

Things had got so bad by the end of the second month that Clara had found the tallest bridge that she could find and come unbelievably close to throwing herself off. But she hadn't had the stomach. She was feeling sick constantly and all she did was lie in bed. She had quit her job, stopped caring about herself. She wasn't looking after herself or eating properly, yet she was still putting on weight at an alarming rate. Her father had told her that he was worried about her. She had told him to fuck off. Kate Stewart had come over to offer her condolences and Clara had thrown a chair at her. UNIT didn't bother her after that. It was their fault he was dead. Their faulty weaponry. They were supposed to have his back, but the backup never came. Kate was lucky it was only a chair Clara had hurled at her.

Really, she should have noticed earlier. She had stopped having periods, but she put that down to stress and poor diet, those things happened frequently when you lost someone close to you. Close to you. Hollow words. Clara had been at her end. She probably wouldn't have lasted another month before she ended up back on a bridge and the next time, she would have thrown herself off. She was living on borrowed time, if you could call it living. Without the Doctor, Clara felt like nothing.

Then, the TARDIS dematerialised. Just like that. It was gone. Clara screamed at it, telling it to fuck off and never come back and that if she saw it again, she'd push it over. Like her threats meant anything to it. Then, a couple of minutes later, it returned, to the exact spot it had habited for the last two months. And the doors opened. Clara let out a new sound, something she couldn't quite pinpoint. She prayed for a moment, begging to every God that she could think of that it would be the Doctor walking out of the doors, laughing at her for being silly enough to think that he was really dead.

But it wasn't the Doctor. It was Madam Vastra, Jenny two steps behind her. They saw Clara and froze.

"What do you want?" Clara asked, her voice as cold as ice. "He's dead. He's gone. He left me. And he's never coming back. So fuck off. Get back in that box the pair of you. Fuck off and never come back. Because I don't want to see you, or that stupid, fucking TARDIS ever again. I was happy. I wasn't perfect but I was happy. And you all pitched up. You two and that stupid fucking box and him. The Doctor. You all showed me a better life and then you stamped on it. You ripped out my heart. He ripped out my heart. He ripped out my heart and stamped on it. Why are you here?" she had gotten progressively louder and more teary as she ranted. "Why the fuck are you here? To rub it in? The Doctor is dead. My Doctor is dead and there is nothing I can do about it. And nobody gets it. Nobody understands. What do I do Vastra? What the fucking hell do I do? How can I go on?"

She dissolved into sobs and collapsed into Vastra's arms. Vastra and Jenny exchanged a look and took Clara downstairs. Jenny poured her water and Vastra put her arm around Clara. They had both noticed it. They didn't want to say, but they had.

"You've put on weight," Vastra said quietly.

"Yes," Clara shrugged. "I've been eating a lot of junk food."

"And you've been sick a lot?" Jenny asked and Clara nodded.

"Another side effect of eating like crap."

"You've missed your periods."

"Depression."

"Clara…"

"No." Clara cut them off. She wasn't. She couldn't be. He was dead. There was no way…

"You're pregnant Clara. And we both know who the father is…"

"No!" she screamed and shoved Vastra away. "He can't be. If he was, if he could be, he would be here. The Doctor I know would never let his child down. He would never leave his child. He would never leave me. How could he do this? My Doctor…he's gone. And I'm left picking up the pieces."

Clara collapsed into a ball and cried. He was gone. And she was left to bring up their child. At least now, she had a reason to keep going. And that was what Clara Oswald did, what Clara Oswald had to do. She kept going.


	91. Married Echoes

***Okay kids, this is where it gets complicated. And shits in the face of canon. Plausibly. Little bit. Oh hell, like I care. I don't write this for Steven Moffat, I write it for the wonderful people who give me these ideas. So if a fan asks me to pretend the Doctor scattered himself along his own timeline, then I'm going to pretend the Doctor spread himself along his own timeline. Anyyyyway, I'm done ranting, this was an anon prompt, asking for a pair of married echoes. Here you go, keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>Over the course of their travels, the Doctor and Clara had bumped into many of her echoes. They had met ones that had entire planets cloned from them, they had met ones that were queens of their respective civilizations. They had met ones that had instigated fixed points in time and they had met one from the future in the Anglo-American war. But this? This was entirely new and very, very weird. This echo was, the Doctor realised with a terrifying jolt, normal. They had landed on Earth, year 3210. They had landed in an urban environment, a city that the Doctor called New English Paris. Clara didn't question it. She had long since given up trying to call the Doctor out on anything related to their destination, he was usually one step ahead. He'd pulled the Lost City of Atlantis stunt for a fifth time that morning and she was still pissed off from that.<p>

And as they explored the city a bit more, they discovered her. She called herself Oswin, another Oswin to add to the list. She was Clara in almost every respect. She was short, bossy, brunette, with sparkling eyes and luscious hair and she was utterly wonderful. But she was also pregnant. Clara's eyes bulged when she saw herself, blown up to the size of a balloon.

"Is that what I looked like pregnant?" Clara hissed to the Doctor.

"No," he lied quickly. "Of course not."

But they got to talking, Oswin somewhat more weirded out by meeting Clara than Clara was by meeting Oswin. But then, that was inevitable. Clara understood the reasons behind it. The Doctor spouted some garbage about time-space multiplicity and it shut Oswin up. Clara elbowed her husband. Oswin laughed at that. She seemed doubly confused however, saying that it was by far the strangest coincidence she had ever seen. Clara was about to understand why. They went back to Oswin's house and then, the true nature of exactly how screwed up the situation truly was became apparent when they met Oswin's husband.

"Oh," the Doctor went pale. "This is interesting."

"Doctor?" Clara murmured. "Explanation."

"You know how when we climbed out of my time stream on Trenzalore?"

"Uh huh."

"And you asked me why I wasn't scattered along my own time line?"

"Uh huh."

"And I told you that it was impossible and that I knew how to stop it happening?"

"Uh huh."

"I was totally lying. I may have been ever so slightly scattered across my own time line."

"No fucking kidding."

Oswin was married to the Doctor. Well, obviously not the Doctor, but apparently a Doctor echo. This was the most bizarre thing that Clara had ever seen.

"You shaved your head," she said to him, pointing at the echo.

"You put on like 100 pounds!" he shot back.

"Can I shave your head?" she asked.

"Can I get you pregnant again?"

"I'll think about it," Clara smirked.

"Then so will I!" the Doctor shot back.

"What the hell is going on?" the Doctor echo asked quietly.

"Time-space multiplicity," the Doctor replied cheerily. "Great, great grandchildren from a future with time-travel, absolutely nothing to worry about."

"Only you could come up with a lie more implausible than the truth," Clara informed him. "Can we go now, I keep thinking that the entire time vortex is going to fall apart."

"Nah, see it's not a paradox," he pointed out. "Telling them where they're from will shatter the illusion of their perfect little lives, but it won't actually affect any future events in the slightest. We're not endangering any laws of time, just the happiness of our echoes. Here dears, take these. Once we're gone, drink them with water."

Clara frowned as he handed them the little blue pills. He smiled warmly and they shot him confused looks back. He waved and pulled Clara along behind him as they left the echoes house.

"Do you just carry memory wipe pills around with you?" Clara hissed. "Have you ever used them on me?"

"No!" the Doctor answered quickly. Far too quickly for Clara's liking. She stopped and he looked back at her nervously. "Wouldn't you remember if I had?"

She punched him and followed him back to the TARDIS.


	92. Angel of Mine

***Hey troops, another one for you now, this one was anonymous, it's a song prompt, the song is Angel of Mine by The Icarus Account, they get all the credit, please keep sending them in, thanks for reading, yada yada, I'm going to get caffeine because it's gone half 1 in the morning, I've been awake since 8am because my idiot friends missed the train home last night so I had to accept our food order, curtailing my lie-in and I've now been writing prompts for nearly 14 hours. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor couldn't think of the words to tell Clara how he felt. He never had been able to. She was an English teacher, a well-read young woman. She was always able to say how she felt, so eloquently, so perfectly. It always reflected her feelings, her emotions and he would end up tumbling over his own words, ending up saying things like she was pretty or worse, just: 'I love you'. She wanted something more. She deserved something more. The Doctor tried everything. He took her across time and space, but every single time it came to putting how he felt into words, he just flopped. He knew Clara appreciated his efforts, but the little wince on her face as he flailed over the word 'gorgeous' broke his heart. So he tried a different tactic. He knew that the only way to go about it was to try new things, things he'd never tried before. So he ended up listening to different types of music. He stumbled upon The Icarus Account and they put it into words more perfectly than he ever could.<p>

So, the following day, he went up to Clara and he spoke to her, saying the words in the most soft, gentle way that he could:

"There was a time when I was never really sure  
>If I was ever gonna find that perfect girl<br>But then came the day  
>When you came my way<br>Everything changed

I could tell straight from the moment that we met  
>You would always be the girl I could not forget<br>In all of my thoughts  
>In all of my prayers<br>All of my cares

So maybe I've fallen in love  
>With an angel that came from above<br>You're something to find  
>One of a kind<br>You are all that I can see  
>Sometimes it's heard to believe<br>You're something to find  
>One of a kind<br>Angel of mine

I've never been the type to go all in  
>But you were different it was evident<br>So if you give me you're heart  
>I'll give you mine<br>All of the time

So maybe we've fallen in love  
>You are an angel that came from above<br>You're something to find  
>One of a kind<br>You are all that I can see  
>Sometimes it's hard to believe<br>You're something to find  
>One of a kind<br>Angel of mine

Where did you come from ?  
>Where have you been ?<br>I have been waiting all this time  
>Angel of mine<p>

So finally I've fallen in love  
>With an angel that came from above<br>You're something to find  
>One of a kind<br>You are all that I can see  
>Sometimes it's heard to believe<br>You're something to find  
>One of a kind<br>Angel of mine"

When he was finished, he stood back, satisfied that once and for all, Clara Oswald knew how he felt.

"Jesus Chin-Boy, if I'd known you were going to resort to ripping off The Icarus Account I'd have told you to stop trying months ago," Clara laughed. "I love you and you love me. And I know that. I don't need you to say it in super special way. Because you show me, each and every day."

"I love you Clara Oswald."

"I know Chin. I know."


	93. Angry Because He Cares

***Hey guys, I'm signing off for the night, but more Whouffle tomorrow, I promise. To finish off, here's a delightful prompt from over on tumblr. The Doctor is angry at Clara for doing something stupid and dangerous. Enjoy. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was tied to a chair; five men with guns were stood pointing their guns at him and directly behind him was a door. Behind the door was a Dalek. Said Dalek would not doubt be through the door in approximately twelve and a half seconds. So the Doctor had twelve and a half seconds until he was caught up in the middle of a gunfight and if he tried to escape, the men would shoot him anyway. All in all, the Doctor reckoned he'd got himself out of worse spots. Just. Once or twice. Maybe with a bit of help. He calculated that there four ways of the room. If you didn't include the door that the Dalek was behind, three. If you didn't include the vent shaft he could reach even standing on top of the chair and jumping, then two. If you didn't include the window which only led into deep space and would be almost impossible to shatter anyway, one. So the only way out was behind the soldier with five guns. Perfect. Eight and a half seconds. All he needed was for the five men with guns to stop aiming at him for one second and he was fine. But that wasn't going to happen.<p>

"You realise that the Dalek behind that door will kill us all?" he protested. They ignored him.

Then, the door behind the five men opened. The Doctor swore as they swerved and fired. The Dalek broke down the door. But the Doctor had got what he had wanted, that free second and he was already gone. The men had taken their eyes off of him for a second and he had soniced off the ropes holding him. The men turned but they were too slow. The Doctor pinned himself to the wall next to the Dalek as it fired, killing two of the men before they turned. The Dalek moved into the room and the Doctor was behind in and out the room before the men were firing. He was no longer in the middle of their fight. He stayed hidden behind the door frame until the firing stopped. He had counted five Dalek shots. It wouldn't have needed a sixth. He was already moving. The Dalek was proceeding onwards. The Doctor knew, however, that the corridors looped round in a circle. So the person who had opened the door from behind the gunmen could loop round and meet him around the next corner. Sure enough, as he turned the corner, Clara Oswald hurtled into view, a big grin on her face. The Doctor was less than impressed. He grabbed her hand and dragged her after him. He didn't stop running until the blue box was in sight. He thrust his key into the lock and turned and shut the doors behind him, sighing in relief.

"You're welcome," Clara laughed. But the Doctor wasn't laughing. He was glaring furiously at her and Clara raised an eyebrow as he stomped over to the console, forcing himself to breathe deeply. "What's wrong?" she asked gently, moving to straighten his bow tie, but he straightened it himself and pointed a finger at her accusingly.

"Never, ever do that again!" he snapped. "You opened a door to have five armed and dangerous men take pot shots at you! Not to mention, there was a Dalek. A Dalek Clara! Do you have any idea, any conceivable notion of exactly how dangerous a Dalek truly is? No! You don't! So next time, when I tell you to stay in the TARDIS, you STAY IN THE TARDIS! You don't go gallivanting off after me on some fool's crusade to save my neck."

"Oh, so you would have got out of that room by yourself?" Clara shot back angrily.

"Yes!" the Doctor lied. "I could have managed it!"

"Liar!" Clara shot back. "You were dead without my intervention. Just admit it, you don't think I can handle it? You don't think, even after everything that we've been through, that I can handle aliens, or idiots with guns. You think that I'm some weak little girl, who needs protecting! Well who did the protecting today Doctor?"

"It's not that at all!" he yelled. "You don't understand Clara! It's not about my faith in you!"

"Well what is it then?" she demanded.

"I would rather have died in there!" he shouted and she stopped dead. The tension seemed to melt away. "Clara, I would rather have been gunned down in that room than lose you. I would have taken those bullets, in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you safe. I'm only angry at you Clara, because I love you. I care about you, more than anything and seeing you…pulling dangerous stunts like that, it breaks my hearts. I have lost so many people, I dare not lose you. I think that you are strong Clara, and more than capable. I would never have invited you along if I didn't think you were more than a match for an alien. Men with guns have nothing on you, but Clara…I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you died for me. Again."

"Oh," she said softly, taken-aback by his speech. She pressed down her skirt and cleared her throat. "Well then, that changes everything. I mean, it doesn't. But it does… Damn you. I'm not going to die. I'm way too good at this stuff. And besides, I'd never live with myself if you got yourself killed you big dolt!"

She pulled him into a long, caring hug, that the Doctor never wanted to end. They exchanged a look and then both their faces burst into smiles.

"Onwards?"

"Onwards."


	94. TARDIS Family Reunion

***Hey guys, me again. This one came in over tumblr, asking for another meeting between a Whouffle that aren't together yet and the Ponds. I really hope this worked, I wanted to try and reflect Amy's mixed feelings towards Clara and likewise, the Doctor's torn response to seeing the Ponds, whilst keeping the Souffez undertone. Anyway, I hope you like it and keep sending them in! TPD***

Amy was strolling in the park. It had been a long time since the Doctor had last visited her and she was half expecting him to just not come back, and just to leave them to enjoy the rest of their lives. It was 2014 and the last time he had visited them was when they went to the Asylum. It felt like so long ago now, but Amy was willing to give him a chance to pop back up into their lives. She was so deep in thought that she wasn't looking where she was going, and collided with a girl who was running the other way. The girl's momentum took her over the top of Amy, who fell backwards and the two ended up sprawled in a heap on the ground, groaning in pain. Amy rolled onto her stomach to get a better look at the girl and then she heard a very familiar voice shouting.

"Clara?! Are you alright?"

"Fine! I'm fine Doctor," the girl, Clara, replied gingerly. "Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. Running to stop an alien invasion or some nonsense like that."

Amy picked herself up, helping this Clara girl to her feet. Clara smiled politely. She was very short and had curly brown hair, shorter than Amy's but certainly not short as it tickled her shoulders. She had big, brown eyes and a cute smile. Both of these were directed at the man over Amy's left shoulder.

"Doctor, what's wrong?" Clara was saying, her smile faltering. "You look like you've seen a ghost…" Clara had trailed off and was staring at Amy now. Amy raised an eyebrow and swivelled, knowing exactly what she would see behind her. Sure enough it was him. He looked older and he'd changed his stupid tweed jacket for a purple one, but he still had a bow tie. He looked horrified.

"Six months!" Amy snapped. "Six months Raggedy Man. Where the hell have you been? Actually, stupid question, I can see where you've been. Who's this? Is she my replacement?"

The Doctor had managed to regain a semblance of control over his face and hit himself in the forehead. "Clara, this is Amy, Amy, Clara. Clara is my uh…"

"Friend?" Clara tried, raising an eyebrow at him. The Doctor clicked his fingers at her with a grin.

"I'm his best friend," Amy said coldly, feeling guilty as both Clara and the Doctor's faces fell. She wanted to annoy him, not the poor girl he'd dragged along to replace her. "So were you ever planning on coming back?"

The look on his face looked like she'd wounded him to his very core. Clara, who obviously knew more than she was letting on, pulled a face.

"I did come back for you," he said quietly. Clara shot him a glare and he perked up immediately. "I mean, I'm here now!" he grinned. "Pond, Clara, shall we? Let's go and find Rory and we can all have a nice little chat!"

"What about the aliens?" Clara asked him in a voice that clearly indicated she didn't want her planet blowing up.

"Oh I'm sure another version of me running around somewhere has dealt with it by now," the Doctor winked as if that meant his own personal timeline was changing his memories. "Yep, we're good. Rory, let's go and find Rory."

Amy walked side by side with the Doctor, but she was put out by the way that Clara linked arms with him, their hands curled around each other. The way she looked at him was a look of pure adoration and Amy immediately felt angry and jealous on River's behalf. The Doctor seemed caught awkwardly in the middle, like a bloke caught between his current girlfriend and his ex. It made Amy upset to know that she was the latter. They went back home and Amy put the kettle on, enthusing the Doctor to join her in the kitchen, leaving Clara and Rory to talk shop in the living room. She was upset to note that the awkwardness he had around her seemed to transcend Clara, it was localised to Amy herself.

"You're being weird," she pointed out. "What's wrong? Is it Clara? Are you two, you know… because my daughter would not be impressed."

The Doctor winced at the mention of River. Something was very wrong. "No," he replied in a manner that indicated that there was no more to be said on the subject. "She's just a friend. A very good friend by the way!" he shot back and Amy squirmed, feeling bad about the best friend comment. "She got me through a very rough time in my life, when you guys and River…" The Doctor froze. "It doesn't matter, let's just say that you weren't there."

Amy bit her lip. "I can see the way she looks at you," Amy said quietly. "Like you're the only thing that matters in the whole world."

"You used to look at me that way," the Doctor replied, a tad amused. "Before the wedding. Before Rory travelled with us. I'm glad you stopped."

"You live off it," Amy accused him. "It's what keeps you going. Clara, don't lead her on a wild goose chase."

"Clara Oswald is more than capable of taking care of herself," the Doctor smirked. "She's impossible to impress." His smile brightened slightly. "She's my impossible girl."

"Your impossible girl?" Amy was smirking now. "Oh you like her. You really like her, what would River say."

"Probably go for it," the Doctor shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't seen River Song since…" Since what, Amy wondered. "It doesn't matter. Nothing is going on between myself and Clara, now let's go."

"And then," Rory was saying as they headed back into the lounge. "Amy ducked and the two creatures hit each other with the spades!"

"He's not telling the spade story again is he?" Amy rolled her eyes as Clara giggled incessantly. "He never shuts up about it."

"This one time," Clara was saying. "We stared down a God, the size of…how big was it Doctor?"

"The size of the sun," he replied, a tenderness in his voice when he spoke to Clara, a tenderness that he'd rarely used when speaking to Amy, yet which seemed to be omnipresent when Clara was involved. "And it wasn't a God, not really. They just thought it was. It was no match for us."

"What do you mean us?" Clara sounded indignant and the Doctor frowned. "It was me who stopped it."

"Yes and the fact that I reduced it to its last legs, so it could barely keep on going had absolutely nothing to do with it!" the Doctor replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "She's right though, she was amazing."

The way he said it made Amy flinch up. It was horrible, watching him parade her in front of them, like some kind of trophy. Making Amy feel inadequate. Rory nudged her, and she realised that she had zoned out of the conversation. The Doctor was looking at Amy in an odd way. Like he needed to get away from her, yet couldn't force himself.

"We need to go," the Doctor said sharply. "This is…"

"Wrong?" Clara whispered sympathetically. "Too painful?"

Amy doubted she was supposed to hear either of those. The Doctor nodded and raced for the door, shouting goodbyes over his shoulder. Amy caught Clara before the brunette could follow him.

"Is he okay?" she asked quietly. Clara shook her head.

"It's complicated," she sighed. "He will be okay. You'll see him again soon. But he won't have met me yet. Please, forget you saw us today. It was hard enough on him."

Amy suddenly realised that this was a future Doctor, long after he'd stopped travelling with them. It all added up. Clara was a replacement, and any resentment Amy felt towards her melted away. She was just glad that the Doctor was travelling with someone, for he should never be alone. It all made sense to her and she couldn't believe that it had taken her so long to realise it.

"Clara?" Amy asked suddenly. "What happens to us? In the future? Why do we stop travelling with him?"

Clara smiled sadly and stepped past Amy, calling back over her shoulder: "Spoilers."

"One more thing," Amy called and Clara stopped walking away. "Look after him."

Clara nodded, her smile real now. "Oh believe me. I intend to."


	95. Atlantis, 53, Castle Battle

***Hey guys, the totally amazing but despicable xandrota sent in this prompt: The Lost City of Atlantis, a castle battle and the number 53...well what can I do with that. This, obviously. I hope you guys like it, keep sending them in either on here or tumblr. TPD***

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><p>It had taken him seven attempts, but the Doctor had finally relented and admitted that there was in fact a Lost City of Atlantis. It was an alien civilisation that was housed in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and that was destroyed around the time of the dinosaurs by immense shifts in tidal currents. After much badgering, Clara had finally got the Doctor to take her, although he refused to bring Ellie and Craig along. They were left behind with the babysitter. Clara was excited, she was finally going to see The Lost City of Atlantis.<p>

Atlantis, the Doctor told her on the way, was divided into two sub-cities, the Neckroloids and the Fengolites. They had each built a castle on opposite sides of the city and built their colonies around them. The Fengolites had always had a problem with the Neckroloids, but there were certain peak times of warfare.

"We have landed!" the Doctor told her. "Right behind those doors, is Atlantis! What do you think eh? Excited?"

"I keep thinking that you're lying," Clara admitted. "That we'll be home and Craig and Ellie will point and laugh at me when I step out. Should I change into swimwear? How are we going to breathe?"

The Doctor chuckled patronisingly. Clara hated that after being married for over 15 years, he still treated her like a child. "No my dearest Clara," he informed her. "The city is underwater, but it's shielded by air pockets. No water can get in or out, you look wonderful as you're dressed now. I know my temporality is off, but we can't be so far off that the city will collapse whilst we are there."

"Promise?" Clara smiled despite herself.

"Cross my hearts!" he mimicked it, a sign of their first trip together, all the way to Akhaten. They had been back since, Akhaten had really developed now that it wasn't feeding children to a homicidal star. "Shall we?"

Clara linked arms with him, nuzzling his shoulder gently and then they stepped out into the city. Five men-like creatures, covered in orange fur but otherwise human, surrounded them, pointing pitchforks. It was almost exactly how Clara had imagined it. She was captivated by the world around her. It was like a normal city, but instead of the sky, the area above them was the darkest, clearest shade of blue, with fish and sharks swimming above them. She found it difficult to take her eyes off the incredible sight above her and back onto the men pointing spears at them.

"Umm Doctor?" Clara asked for assistance and the Doctor flashed his psychic paper.

"I'm the Doctor, this is Clara. Great people of the Fengolite race, we are representatives from the historical museum of great cities. We're time travellers, interested in only the best and brightest of the world's architecture and technology, across time and space!"

"You might as well have just told them the truth!" Clara muttered incredulously and the Doctor elbowed her in the ribcage.

"Take them to the castle!" snarled the middle Fengolite. "Take them to the leader. He will know what to do with them."

"Ahh, very good. Leader, means intelligent," the Doctor smiled. "Means someone who will listen to reason. What year is it, good Fengolite?"

"The year is 53," it snapped back and the Doctor's eyes bulged. Clara hung her head.

"Let me guess," she said sarcastically. "We're in the middle of a war, aren't we?"

"Regrettably yes, I think we might be."

"They think we're spies for the Neckroloids don't they?"

"Entirely plausibly yes."

"They're going to execute us aren't they?"

"I feel as though there is a strong possibility of that."

"I hate you sometimes."

"Now that I did know."

They were taken to the castle as instructed and the Doctor was very wary as they were searched. They examined his sonic and when he explained that it wasn't dangerous, they laughed. They then found Clara's sonic and confiscated that as well. This would be the third time she'd lost her screwdriver. It was entirely the Doctor's fault every time of course, but he didn't seem willing to admit that. They were kept waiting for a while and then they were brought before the Fengolite leader.

"Who are you?" he snarled.

"I'm the Doctor, this is Clara. We're time-travellers, all we do is travel around, having fun, investigating great cities…"

The Doctor was interrupted by an explosion to their left. The wall collapsed in on itself. Clara screamed and the Doctor wrapped his body around her to protect her. The Neckroloids were attacking. The Doctor looked at Clara and she could see the love in his heart.

"Look, we're clearly not spies!" Clara shouted. "Do you really think we'd let ourselves come here, knowing you guys were about to be attacked, just let us go!"

But nobody was interested in them. The Fengolites had gone into defensive status and the Doctor grabbed Clara's hand, pulling her along behind him. She screamed as rubble collapsed, narrowly missing them and the Doctor kicked open doors as they hurtled for dear life down the corridors.

"Do you know the way out?" Clara shouted, agitated.

"No, do you?" he asked curiously and she yelled out as he had turned to face her and was about to run into solid rock. He weaved and then a piece of rubble collided with the side of his head and he went down. Clara swore loudly and propped him up, running as fast as her legs could carry her, dragging the semi-conscious Doctor along with her. Their sonics were sitting on the side, abandoned during the fighting and she scooped them up as she ran past. She soniced the window ahead of them and they jumped, plummeting into the abyss. They were about five stories up, but Clara had managed to get her bearings and there was a moat surrounding the castle. They hit the icy water and Clara stopped breathing for a heartbeat, kicking towards the surface. The water had awakened the Doctor and he dragged her along with him. They swam for the shore and lay, panting on the rocky side of the moat.

"Lost City of Atlantis?" Clara gasped. "Overrated."

"I concur," the Doctor agreed. "Can we go and snuggle up in bed with Ellie please?"

"Ellie's getting too big for it," Clara replied. "Craig."

"Why not both?" the Doctor laughed. "They are going to lose it when we tell them about this."

"You mean when they're old enough?" Clara warned.

"I always mean when they're old enough."

The walk back to the TARDIS was a chaotic one, as they had to avoid both Fengolite and Neckroloid forces, but once they were inside, Clara allowed herself to relax.

"To Ellie and Craig?"

"To Ellie and Craig."


	96. Planet of the Claras II

***Hello one and all. So this is another planet of the Claras prompt, based on one poor tumblr users misreading of a prompt of mine. So, the Doctor and Clara land on a planet and...well you'll see for yourselves. Weird one, but I hope you like it... TPD***

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><p>The second that they touched down, the Doctor had known something was wrong. Straight away, he had sensed it. The TARDIS sensed it too, but unfortunately for the Doctor, Clara had already wandered off, across the dusty wilderness. The TARDIS started to take off, desperate to escape and the Doctor had to make a split-second decision. It was in fact, no decision at all. He jumped out of the TARDIS after his wife, letting the machine throb and gaze and disappear. He sighed as he stared at the empty space where the machine had been. The noise had sent Clara running back towards him but, as expected, she'd been too late to get back on board.<p>

"What happened?" she cried anxiously. "Where's she gone?"

"Temporal storm, raging photonic energy signatures from a nearby star," the Doctor sighed. "She'll be back the instant that they die down. Could be tomorrow, could be three weeks from now, could be six months."

"Six months?" Clara exploded.

"A year. Two tops, I promise."

"We are not stuck here for a year," she snarled and he would have laughed at how cute she was when she was angry under different circumstances. He shrugged. He was every bit as upset and angry as she was, but tantruming wasn't going to get the TARDIS to come back. The Doctor raised his sonic in the air and deduced that they weren't far from the nearest city, so he took Clara's hand, kissed it and pulled her along behind him as he jogged across the dark, cracked ground.

They reached the nearest town and the Doctor was relieved to see that they had an open hotel. They stepped inside and the kindly old woman behind the desk cooed when she saw them.

"Oh hello Clara dear!" she laughed. Clara's eyes widened. "Now which one are you then? Clara 56, I think that's you right?"

"Did you say…Clara…56?" Clara stuttered. "Doctor…"

"Hello," he shook the elderly woman's hand enthusiastically. "There must be some mistake. I'm the Doctor, this is Clara Oswald. We're not from this planet, we're from Earth a good…ooh 508 years ago? It was 2015 when we left, right Clara?" She nodded.

"You're very funny young man."

"Not young. 1200. But carry on. Why am I funny?"

"Because of course this is Clara Oswald. But which one dear?"

"Which one?" Clara was glaring at the Doctor now, as if this entire debacle was his fault. "I'm the only one."

"Well, strictly speaking, there are thousands and millions of you, scattered across the…" the Doctor paused. "Oh dear. Exactly how many Clara Oswalds did you say there were on this planet?"

"On this planet?" she frowned. "Dear, this is the only inhabitable city on the planet. And there are 62 Clara Oswalds, she makes number 63."

"She is the one and only," the Doctor snarled. "The others only exist because this Clara, the real Clara, threw herself into my time stream, ripping herself into a million pieces to save my life because she's an incredible human being. So if you don't want me to tear down this hotel, brick by brick, then don't you dare, ever refer to my wife as number 63."

"Did you say wife?" the lady smiled. "Ohh dear, you're in for it now…"

It transpired that, due to a quirk in the legal system on Trepsilon, the planet they'd found themselves on, all of the Claras were legally designated the same person. The Doctor had found this to be an interesting and mildly amusing development, until it transpired that this meant that he was legally married to all 62 Claras, plus the original. At first, this hadn't been a problem for them, as they settled in the hotel and waited for the sonics to beep and inform them that the TARDIS was back. However, then the Claras started coming. It was a dribble at first, one or two Claras a day asking to see their husband, as the social convention dictated that he spend time with them. Clara was reluctant but if they didn't, there was a good chance they'd be thrown out the city and their chances of survival unless the TARDIS showed up were slim. So Clara let the other Oswalds in for hour long stints.

Then, things got complicated. More of them started showing up, claiming that they were entitled to entire days with their beloved. They all had the same arguments and Clara grew increasingly infuriated to the point where she threatened to sonic all of their eyes out. What also became a problem was that they felt they were entitled to more than just conversations with the Doctor. Half of them were trying to kiss him after a couple of months and one even broke into their flat and slipped into the shower with him. Clara was stunned that he had realised it wasn't the real Clara.

But the real problem was the little old lady running the hotel. She was spreading the news like wildfire, getting all of the Claras involved and constantly referring to Clara as "number 63", which had earned her Clara's deepest loathing. The Doctor was being as polite and well-tempered as he could, to all of the other Claras, but what shocked Clara was how he didn't fall for any of their charms.

"I don't understand," she groaned, one night five months in. The Doctor had spent the entire day with three different Claras and on every occasion, he had had to shut them down. "They're all me, why don't you just have sex with them?" she yawned as she curled up to him.

"Because they're not you!" he insisted. "You're the only Clara Oswald I'm interested in. Ever." Before she could respond, their sonics went off simultaneously and they looked at each other.

"TARDIS!" they yelled in unison, jumping out of bed. They were fortunate enough not to run into any other Claras as they snuck out of town, crossing the desert wilderness until they reached the TARDIS. Clara opened the door and paused back for a moment to stare dead into the eyes of the Doctor.

"How do you know that I'm even the real Clara?" she smirked.

"When you love someone Clara," he said quietly. "You just know."


	97. Confessions of a Drunken Doctor

***Hey y'all! Another prompt sent in on tumblr. A fancy dress party at Jack Harkness' place. Plenty of booze and the Doctor admits something he never meant to admit...Keep sending them in, I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor let Clara finish up the final touches as she flecked red paint around his eyes. He was blood red from head to toe, as he was going to Jack's party as: The Crimson Horror. He was wearing a burlap sack and nothing else and grinned at his pasty white companion. Clara was a snowman, her hair dyed platinum white, her face painted and she wore all white, every exposed piece of skin white apart from a few black splotches on her stomach and around her eyes and her nose, which was painted orange. She giggled at him as he put on his best zombie approach.<p>

"How do I look?" he grinned.

"Like the Crimson Horror," Clara replied with a small smile. "How do I look?"

"Like a snowman!" he laughed in reply. "Come on, into the TARDIS. Jack will be waiting."

They hopped into the TARDIS and it dematerialised, the TARDIS moaning as the Doctor and Clara traipsed red and white paint across the nice clean floor. She juddered at them and the Doctor kicked the console so that she obeyed and then they landed. The Doctor pushed open the doors and hooted as they stepped into Jack's mansion. They strolled through, the Doctor pointing out various different aliens and giving Clara detailed descriptions before they bumped into the big man Jack himself, who raised an eyebrow at them.

"Cute snowman!" he winked to Clara. "What the hell are you supposed to be?"

"I'm the Crimson Horror!" the Doctor protested. "No? Maybe you had to be there!" He also shot Clara a wink and she chuckled at him. "Nice…Captain's uniform. Very original…"

"Oh stop it you tease!" Jack laughed. "Clara, human drinks are on that table over there!" he pointed. "This one's coming to the top table. Nothing personal Clara but that stuff is like water to him and if you come to this table…"

"It would literally dissolve your liver," the Doctor whispered. "It's not that you can't handle it, so much that humans can't handle it."

Clara rolled her eyes and went to pour herself a drink. She could see the Doctor downing something vile and blue. She skirted around, chatting with one or two people who complimented her on her costume and one strange little yellow thing tried gnawing on her leg before she threw it off. There were a handful of humans to talk to and they all seemed fascinated by the Doctor. The Doctor himself had disappeared by the time that Clara had made it to the top table to grab him. She cursed under her breath and poured herself another drink, weaving through people as she looked for the elusive Time Lord. He was nowhere to be seen. She suddenly saw Jack in a side room and slipped into it. She was about to reveal herself when she heard her name and snippets of conversation.

"What do you mean Clara's different?"

"I mean…" the Doctor was slurring his words and he sounded completely unlike the Doctor that Clara knew. "She's different because she has wonderful eyes."

"You've said that three times," Clara could practically hear the smirk on Jack's face. "What else?"

"Clara is the most boootiful girl I've ever seen!" the Doctor muttered and Clara heard him hit the floor with a thud. She resisted the urge to laugh. "And she's got the nicest smile, and the prettiest hair and tonight it's white as snow. I like Clara with white hair, I should ask her to keep it."

"You're rambling," Jack pointed out with a chuckle.

"That's because I love Clara!" the Doctor spat out and Clara froze. Well this was unexpected. "She's the most amazing person in the world Jack and she's more than just a companion to me. But she must never know that. We can't be together, or she'll be in terrrrrible danger!"

"You've said that twice as well," Jack's voice was tender but Clara's heart had stopped beating. The Doctor…fancied her? This was news to Clara. Of course she thought he was wonderful and gorgeous but…

"It needs to be said!" the Doctor shouted and Jack tried to calm him down. "I love Clara, I have the biggest crush on Clara, I would do anything in the world for Clara!"

Clara raced from the room before she heard anymore. She grabbed another drink and downed it to calm her nerves. This was insane. The Doctor, her Doctor, felt the same way that she did. But he was a Time Lord and 1000 years old…all the teasing, all the games, it was all a big deflection for Clara, yet he had been behind her the whole time. She deflected her own feelings to make him feel awkward and all she had wanted was for well, this. She had only pushed him away because it seemed obvious to her that things could never work between them. She was too…independent. She downed another shot and the Doctor came tumbling out of the room, Jack a few steps behind.

"To the TARDIS!" he shouted and Clara downed as much vodka as she could before chasing after him. He crashed through the doors and she swept in after him, propping him up and stopping him reaching the console.

"Steady on Chin," she groaned, not quite drunk enough for this. "Come here big boy." She pulled him to the sofa and he settled on it, staring at her, but quite at her, as if she wasn't quite in focus.

"I love you!" he said suddenly and Clara tried to avoid the melting feeling in her heart as the red mess in front of her gawped. "I really love you Clara Oswald."

Clara wanted to say something back, anything coherent. To express how she felt, what she wanted, how she could possibly move on from this. And then he projectile vomited onto her and she was fucking done. She stood and shook her head, wanting to scream in anguish. Of course he'd said those things. He was so fucking drunk. Clara glared at him, but then she saw his eyes. His big sad eyes, were different. For a moment, they weren't big. Or sad. They were happy and loving and they were fixated right on her. He may have drunk, but the words he spoke were the truth. Clara crossed the console room to the Doctor, her Doctor and kissed the top of his bright red forehead.

"I love you too," she whispered.


	98. Aspiring Novelist

***Hey guys, Nafinafi7712 sent this one in and it's a great one! Clara Oswald is an aspiring novelist, short on inspiration. Then, she meets a man she calls the Doctor and ends up writing 12 books on...well I think you can guess... I hope you like it, keep them coming! TPD***

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><p>Clara Oswald scrunched up her paper and hurled it towards the bin in frustration. She had been doing so much of it, she had perfected her aim. 45 degree angle, minimum thrust, account for the slight draft from the window. Clara loved physics, it had always fascinated her. Her physics tutor had begged her to do a degree in it. In retrospect, Clara thought, it probably would have been easier. Instead, she had opted for English. And here she was, five years later, still scraping by on minimum wage and trying to publish her first novel. She couldn't get past page 1. No matter how hard she tried, whenever she started, she just wanted to stick her head in the oven. She pulled at a stray lock of hair that fell out of the messy bun on top of her head and covered her eye. She grabbed the nearest pair of scissors and snipped it away, angry at its lack of cooperation and her lack of progress. She screamed and hurled her entire notepad at the wall.<p>

"Book's going well then?" Nina shouted from across the hall, glancing into Clara's bedroom. Nina was Clara's flatmate and one-time lover. They'd known each other since they were tiny and had dated briefly during Clara's phase when she was 17. Clara had gone one way, Nina had ended up going the other and whilst Clara was no longer attracted to her, they were still good friends.

"Shut up!" Clara groaned. "I'm going to the café, should I bring anything back?"

"Don't bother," Nina snorted. "You'll be there for hours. I know what you're like. You'll get in the zone, write about ten pages, acting all triumphant and then when you get back, you'll rip up the entire lot, drink your body weight in tea, scream a bit more and then go to work in that sleazy bar. It's the same pattern. Every day. You're very predictable Clara."

Clara bristled at that as she picked up her jacket and wrapped it around herself. She didn't like the suggestion Nina was making. It had been a couple of years since she'd finished uni and yes, she'd gotten nowhere with her writing, but a breakthrough was close, Clara could sense it. For once, something different would happen. Today would be different. She would find her inspiration.

She headed to the little café just down the street, where she headed to when she needed inspiration. It always provided Clara with a way out, somewhere where she could think more clearly. She had a premise, a man in a blue box, who travelled time and space. But she didn't have anything more than that…

As she ordered her tea and took her seat, she spotted him. The tall, older man in the, navy jacket, with the red trim, which swished around him as he ordered his coffee. She found herself captivated by him and she started to write…

Every day for the next year or so, whenever Clara went into the tea shop, she would look for the man in the navy cardigan and jacket. And every day, there he would be, sitting alone, sipping on his tea. He was older than her, 50s or 60s but he had a youthful look about the way he moved and laughed. She could imagine him as her protagonist, the age old hero, trapped in the body of a human. The man she would come to call: the Doctor. The Doctor of the stories did bad things to bad people, but always felt guilty and she could see that in the man's eyes. Never once did she speak to him, for fear that it would shatter the illusion, destroy the mental image she had of him: the perfect gentleman, but at the same time, so dangerous. Suave yet childish. Sexy, Clara imagined, in the right light.

She wrote and wrote about the man that she called the Doctor and, just over a year after finally meeting her inspiration, Clara was going to be published. So she summoned up the courage to finally cross the coffee shop and address the man that had become her muse.

"Excuse me?" she said softly and he looked up at her in surprise, knitting his eyebrows as he looked her up and down and licked his lips. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm Clara."

"Clara?" the man smiled. "John Smith. I've spotted you Clara, sat opposite me, every day for the past year. Watching me. Am I about to find out why, or am I just that sexy?"

Clara blushed. This was odd for her. It was like meeting her hero, but not meeting her hero, it was the weirdest feeling in the world.

"I'm a writer," she explained. "And you sort of…you were my inspiration." His eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened in surprise. "I was writing a book about a man who travels in time and space in a blue box, called the Doctor. And, you were him. You became the Doctor. So I've written 12 short stories, based on your…his adventures. And I just wanted to let you know. To say thank you. And also to offer to take you out to dinner, to say thanks."

"Dinner with a pretty girl?" John Smith laughed. "Well that does sound like an offer I cannot refuse, Clara." The way he said her name was exactly the way that she had imagined it. "I'd love to hear all about this Doctor that I inspired you to write."

So they went and had dinner and Clara told him all about the Doctor and it was the start of a beautiful friendship and a very successful writing career.


	99. Marriage Talk

***Hey guys, this one came in anon on tumblr, asking for the Doctor and Clara being about to get married and discussing what happens once they do...this is really more a problem about Clara's independence and the Doctor's unwillingness to compromise. In any case, I hope that you liked it! TPD***

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><p>Clara, the Doctor had decided, was upsetting the TARDIS. The console moaned at him as he threw his hands up in the air in frustration. Clara was being very obstinate, very stubborn and very unhelpful. This whole mess had started the minute that he had proposed. If he hadn't they wouldn't be in this mess, the TARDIS wouldn't be grumpy and the Doctor wouldn't be getting the urge to throttle something or blow up a Dalek. He had zoned out, but Clara was still yelling.<p>

"All I'm suggesting!" she screamed. "Is that you bring one suit to my apartment! One! It's not like I'm asking you to move in or anything! Which by the way, you should. In fact, why should I compromise? It's my life Doctor! Why the hell shouldn't I ask you to move in with me? We are going to be married after all, it makes sense to sleep oh I don't know, in the same bed!"

"That's what I've been trying to say!" the Doctor shot back. "And we can sleep in the same bed, when you come onto the TARDIS full time. You sell your apartment, quit that stupid job thing and we can travel the whole of time and space in this place. You know it makes sense." Why wasn't she listening to reason?

Clara's face had dissolved into white hot fury. "No, it doesn't make sense!" she snapped. "You're not listening to me Doctor! I've told you, that I don't want to spend every second of every day on the TARDIS!"

"But why not?" he asked, confused. Clara wasn't making any sense. "It's the TARDIS…"

"Because!" Clara yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice shifting into an even higher octave. "Because I like my apartment! I like my stupid job! I have family and friends and I can't just…just disappear off the face of the earth just because I'm marrying you!"

"We can pop back and see your dad," the Doctor said in what he hoped was a gentle but ended up being a patronising tone. "I'm not suggesting that we jump ship completely. I'm just saying, that you don't need a house or a job, you have me."

"But I won't have a life!" she retorted. "I want a life outside of you, outside of this box. Being married doesn't mean that I just give up my external life, that's not how it works. I love teaching, I love being able to go out drinking on Friday nights with Nina and Tom, I love being able to pop in to see my dad without having to clear it with this stupid box. I love being able to sit down in front of the telly with a glass of wine on Saturday nights. I like being able to do things that don't involve the Lost Moon of Frigging Poosh!"

"I told you," the Doctor replied innocently. "It's not lost anymore, I found it. Pay attention. And I don't understand. Why would you want a life outside the TARDIS? I can show you everything that there is to see in the universe and you want to watch Strictly? I can show you all 56 seasons if that's what you want, and be back in time to pop in and say hi to your dad!"

"You don't get it!" Clara groaned. "You know what forget it. Maybe agreeing to marry you was a bad idea, seeing as how the concept of change is so completely alien to you. It's alright for you, you're used to having girls dive into your box the second you click your fingers, but there is a whole world out there. A world you think is boring. But I don't. And if you can't handle that, then maybe I need to find myself a nice, ordinary bloke. One who can actually handle my life? This guy at work's pretty lovely…"

The Doctor had all sorts of alarm bells ringing. "Clara, wait!" he sighed. "I love that you have your own little life, I really do…"

"That's half the problem," she interrupted. "You look down on it. Even if you accept it, even if you appreciate that I want it, you feel like you're letting me have it. You're granting me a life outside of you. Your whole attitude towards it stinks Doctor. You want me all for yourself, I get that. But unless you start realising that I am equally important and that my life is equally important, then I can't marry you."

She stormed out the TARDIS. The Doctor slumped on the sofa. She was right. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't get inside her head. He couldn't understand the appeal of it, all he could see was wasted time, wasted energy. He wanted her all the time, not having to share her with students or with friends. They were superfluous, the TARDIS could give her anything. Except what she wanted. The Doctor sighed. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was just useless as a husband. Or maybe, there was another way to get inside her head. To walk a day in her shoes as it were.

"Clara!" he called, stepping out the TARDIS and rapping repeatedly on her apartment door until she opened it, a fierce scowl on her face, her hair wrapped in curlers, a pink dressing gown covering bright red pyjamas.

"What do you want?" she asked, but her voice sounded more weary than angry. "It's late Doctor and if you think I have any intention of sleeping with you tonight after what you just…"

"You were right!" he smiled. "So I am willing to compromise."

"Halle-fucking-lujah! Bring your suit over in the morning." Clara sounded bored. "Goodnight Doctor."

She shut the door but he blocked it with his foot. She glared at him and he stepped inside the apartment, Clara's look like ice.

"Look, you were right!" he explained. "I don't appreciate, I don't understand this life that you have. But I want to. So why I don't I move in for like a month, try to see what it is that you love about this life of yours? Then, after that, we can alternate? Spend some time here, some time on the TARDIS? I know that I've been an arse about the whole thing Clara, but I am willing to try and understand this whole life thing. Nobody's ever asked me anything like this before, it's new to me."

Clara softened and pulled him into a gentle hug. "I know that this is new to you. And I'd never ask you to give up the TARDIS," she smiled. "A month it is. And even if you still hate this life, I can't say that you didn't at least try. I love you."

"I love you too Clara Oswald. Now, where should I park my TARDIS?"


	100. Abusive Boyfriend

***Hello everyone. The clue is in the name, this is not a fun one. I just hope I've dealt with this properly. As ever, keep sending them in and thanks for reading. So, better dig in. Clara's boyfriend is violent when drunk. She ends up doing something that will change her life, one way or the other...TPD***

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><p>He was only violent when he was drunk. That was the excuse Clara used to stay with him. The excuse she used every time. She could take care of herself, she told herself. And she could, for the most part. Most of the time that he got violent, Clara would just walk away, get out before he had a chance to hit her. Occasionally, she'd be forced to confront him. Even on those occasions, he was normally manageable. It was only very rarely that things got messy. On one occasion, he'd smashed a bottle and Clara had been terrified. On another, he'd hit her with a metal pipe, giving her a concussion. That previous night had been a Tuesday, the worst possible day. He'd staggered in drunk and Clara had been unable to get past him to the door. He'd hit her before she was expecting it. She could usually gauge pretty well how early into the argument he'd get violent and she hadn't been prepared for the first thing he did to be punching her in the head. The first punch was always the worst, Clara told herself. But that was a lie really. Because the first wasn't worst, it was just the enabler. Because what it meant was that as Clara picked herself up off the floor, her head pounding, her ears ringing, that she found it impossible to dodge the second, which drive hard and into her gut. Clara doubled over, gasping in pain and this time toppling to the ground. He usually stopped after he thought he'd done some real damage, so if she lay there, he'd probably give in soon. It took a couple of kicks to the ribs before he'd decided he'd had enough, so he slugged his whiskey and stormed upstairs.<p>

Clara knew that she had to join him. If she didn't there would be hell to pay. But she didn't care. She still had time to get out. He knew the rules. Out by 9am on Wednesdays. Clara had established this rule throughout the relationship, the only unquestionable rule. So far, he hadn't broken it. She really hoped that tomorrow wasn't the day that he did, especially with her face in the state it would be. She already felt sorry for him. Because tomorrow would be a bad day for him already, without having to deal with what Wednesdays brought with them. A storm came on Wednesdays. Clara crawled to the kitchen, holding an ice pack to her face. It was going to be a long night. He would probably have passed out by now. She doubted that he'd come looking for her. If he did, she was close enough to the back door that she would hear him coming and she'd have enough time to get out.

Luckily for him, he was out by 8:30 on Wednesday morning. He didn't look at her. He never did. Clara liked to think that it was shame. Shame at what he'd done. She liked to think that he couldn't live with himself for it. But she sadly suspected that that wasn't entirely the truth. She loved him, at times. When he wasn't drinking, when things were normal, he was amazing, the best. She knew she was in trouble. She was still sat on the floor, pressing ice to her face and hoping that the swelling had gone down enough, when her 9am Wednesday morning signalled his arrival with a familiar whooshing and groaning.

Clara groaned and tried to stand but failed. She heard the incessant knocking on the front door and remembered their general rule. He'd knock, then he'd sonic his way in unless she warned him otherwise beforehand. He was paranoid about her safety. Clara knew that she was busted. She had warned her boyfriend about beating her on Tuesdays, but he hadn't listened. She wondered what the Doctor would do to him when he saw the state that Clara was in. She chose not to think about it. Sure enough, the front door crashed open and the Doctor was shouting her name.

"Kitchen!" Clara gasped, unable to stand, her chest on fire. She was fairly sure he'd cracked another rib. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last. The Doctor entered the kitchen, wearing his stupid purple tweed. He looked down at Clara and she could see him putting two and two together, the look on his face turning from anxious, to horrified, to murderous.

"Where is he?"

The words came out so venomous, Clara was surprised that the Doctor was still in the room. He looked like he would strangle her boyfriend with his bare hands. She shook her head meekly and he softened instantly, sitting beside her, bringing his hand up to her face to trace a finger around the sore spot, his hands so delicate that Clara felt better instantly. His entire demeanour had changed. Anger was being held back. Care was his primary objective.

"How long has this been going on?" he asked, as gently as he could. He was shaking though and Clara could see it. She blinked back tears. He'd never made her cry before, she was not about to start now. But when she looked into the Doctor's eyes, she felt tears roll down her cheeks and she wrapped herself around the Doctor as she cried.

"Too long," she whispered. It was the only honest answer that she could give. "He's only like this when he drinks, he's normally fine, but when he gets drunk, he gets angry. Normally I can handle it, I mean I can handle it. But last night was different…"

"Oh Clara," the Doctor said sadly. "My Clara. Come here." He held her for what seemed like forever. She was still sobbing when he released her and they stared into each other's eyes.  
>"You deserve better you know?" she nodded. "You deserve someone who will take care of you, someone who will never leave your side, someone…"<p>

But she cut him off by kissing him. She didn't know what she was doing or why she was doing it. But for once, she just wanted to have to not worry about her boyfriend or any of that messy shit. She just wanted someone who actually cared about her. She had expected the Doctor to react badly, but he had responded and he was still responding when Clara started undressing. It had been so long since she had real, genuine sex, with a man who didn't make her feel dirty or uncomfortable when she took her clothes on. But the Doctor was tender and delicate and he cared for her. It felt so different with him, like she was actually making love, as opposed to simply having sex. It was all so horrible and clichéd, but at least he held her afterwards, even though they were still lying on the kitchen floor.

They were supposed to go to a fancy ball in the 1920s, but Clara could barely stand because of her chest, which she had been horrified to see was beaten black and blue and she had felt the Doctor tense up when he had seen it. The rest of the day was spent in bed instead and Clara shooed him off before her boyfriend got home. It was the same old shit. He apologised, she accepted it. The Doctor had threatened to go back and stop him existing, but Clara had told him that she needed to handle it herself. Apparently he had respected that and allowed him to continue existing.

Things got worse a month or so later. Or better. Clara wasn't sure at first. She stared down at the little stick in her hand, telling her that she was most definitely pregnant. As if the previous four hadn't told her that already. She racked her brains. Had they had unprotected sex in the last month or so? Probably, she admitted to herself. He was always forgetting to put one on and ploughing on anyway, despite her protests. And yet, she had the funniest of feelings that the child was from the day she had slept with the Doctor. She wanted to get it tested, so she waited until he tried to hit her, then ducked under his fist, waited until he was out cold and got a DNA sample.

The next day, the Doctor showed up. She didn't tell him, not yet. She needed to know who the father was. The Doctor checked her over for fresh injuries and she lied to him, told him that she was single again. The Doctor hadn't mentioned the day that they'd had sex and neither had she. It was almost an unwritten code between them not to.

Then the results came back. He found them before she did and, for the first time ever, got violent sober. That was the final straw for Clara. She broke a chair round the back of his head, kicked him out, told him that she was finished with him and called the Doctor to tell him that she was pregnant with his child. It turned out, him making the mistake of beating her on a Tuesday ended up being the best thing to happen to her. She never saw him again and she suspected that he ended up in some alien prison, courtesy of her storm. The storm that only came on Wednesdays. And she didn't care. Because she was with the Doctor. And she was happy.


	101. Torture

***Hey troops. Clue is in the title, but this is not a fun prompt and certainly not for the faint of hearted. I've tried not to be too explicit but this is still slightly gruesome. Anyway, Clara gets kidnapped and tortured by the Master. I hope you like it and keep sending in your prompts. This one came in anon over tumbr! TPD***

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><p>There was a new teacher at Clara's school. He was called Harry. Harry Taxing. He was lovely and charming and whenever he spoke, Clara felt a buzzing in her ears, like there was something going on inside her brain that she couldn't quite control. She found herself enthralled by Harry, so when he asked her out on a date, she gratefully accepted. They ended up going out a few times and she even mentioned him to the Doctor, who acted fairly incredulously and at worst jealous. Not that it bothered her. The bow tie wearing maniac was always jealous of something or another, whether it be a tree, a little old lady Clara helped to cross the street or the co-worker she was dating.<p>

On their fourth date, Clara decided that she knew him well enough to go back to his place. They'd been working together for a few months, they'd been out in a group a load of times and had been on four days, it seemed safe enough. Clara was confident she could take care of herself.

His laugh was the first thing that tipped her off. It suddenly became high-pitched and malevolent and Clara frowned upon hearing it. The door slammed shut behind her and she turned to kick it down, but when she put her foot on the door, an electric current ran through her, more painful than your standard taser and incapacitating her. She hit the floor and he plucked her up into his arms, moving her into what could only be described as a torture room. He placed her on a dentist-esque and strapped her down. He propped her up so she was staring at him.

"Hello dearie!" he smiled wickedly and fear took Clara over. "I'll be your Doctor this evening!" he cackled as if he had just made the funniest joke known to man. Clara's hair was standing on end and there was a tingling sensation covering every part of her body, but she managed to find her voice.

"I feel as though it's only fair to warn you," she groaned. "I have a friend. An amazing friend who eats scum like you for breakfast. And it's only a matter of time until he comes for you. And when he gets here…"

"Oh Clara!" he laughed. "Dear sweet precious Clara. Don't you see?" the menacing edge left his voice and he growled in a voice so evil it sent fear rocketing to every single part of her body. "I. Am. Counting on it."

She screamed, every fibre of her body suddenly racked with pain. All he had done was press a button on the chair.

"Do you like it?" he asked. "It's a new neural interface. I don't even have to touch a hair on your pretty little head to cause you unbearable agony. I will though. I will rip you apart Clara Oswald. He loves his pretty toys, my Doctor. But don't worry Clara, you won't be nearly so pretty when I'm finished with you."

"Who are you?" she gasped.

"I'm the Master."

He moved closer and pulled out a small knife, slashing at her cheek. Clara stared at him defiantly. He wasn't going to break her.

"Oh Clara," he chuckled. "You don't have to do this. Your reaction will change nothing. I'm going to enjoy this either way, nothing you do is going to have the slightest difference. There's no point being strong. You'll be crying sooner or later, it makes no difference to me. The look on the Doctor's face when he sees his prized possession in metaphorical and potentially literal pieces is going to make my century either way."

He plunged the knife into her hand and she yelled.

"I know ways to induce pain you wouldn't believe."

He pressed the button and the neural interface kicked in. Every inch of Clara was on fire, it was as if she was being torn apart from the inside out. The horror of it had barely subsided when he sliced open her shoulder.

"I don't want you to bleed out. Not yet anyway."

He moved from the knife to his fists, pounding Clara in the gut, then the jaw. She felt blinding pain shoot through her and her head snapped back. He then pulled something over her head. She tried to move but it was stuck there.

"You'll like this," he said gently. "I invented it myself. One thousand needles, penetrating down to your skull. You can only imagine the pain Clara Oswald. Oh wait, you don't have to."

He pressed a button and, as promised, her skull was inflicted with pain more severe than anything she could ever have imagined. The noise that left her was inhuman, she couldn't handle it. Whatever was coming next couldn't possibly be worse, could it?

"I don't just want to hurt you. That's enough pain and blood for now. I want to humiliate you," he snarled. He flicked a few switches on the neural interface and Clara's mouth was forced into a smile so wide that she thought her jaw would break. Then, it did, she felt the crack and her lips split, her mouth a grotesque red smile. "There, now you're happy!" he grinned. "Aren't you happy Clara?"

The next hour or so, Clara would have no idea how she got through it. He picked up apart. He called her a smurf because of her height, so he painted her blue, stained only by the red of her blood from wounds that never seemed to end. He'd slice up her arms, her legs, her chest. The needles in her skull were removed every so often, so that he could position them in a similar position, creating fresh agony for Clara to enjoy. He cut at her hair, her skin, her clothes, leaving her naked, exposed and in constant, nerve-shredding torment, the pain so severe that she was screaming for death before long. She wanted to be dead more than anything in the world.

And then, she thought she was. She was naked, alone, broken into a million pieces, she felt like she had been physically and mentally there would be nothing left for the Doctor to put back together if he even came for her. Then, her eyes widened as the Master frowned and turned. The Doctor was there. He moved so quickly that Clara was almost surprised. She wasn't sure what was going on, she could barely see, but the Master fell to the floor and Clara slipped into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she felt fine. Completely fine. She woke in a pod of some sort, and she looked down at herself. There wasn't a scratch or a mark or a lick of blue paint on her. Her jaw, her head, her limbs, her chest, they were all fine. If anything she was comfortable. She sat up and banged her head on the roof of the pod. That hurt a little, but nothing compared to the pain she couldn't quite remember. It was there, in her mind, but she couldn't access it. She could remember that she had been in pain, but she couldn't access any thoughts about it beyond that. The pod shot open and she climbed out gingerly.

"Clara."

"Doctor," she whirled round and there he was. She threw herself into his arms, crying incessantly. "The Master…"

"Dead." He said it coldly, like he had removed all emotion from it.

"You said to me once that he was a Time Lord like you? Shouldn't he have regenerated like 12 times?"

"He did."

"And he kept on dying?" Clara paused, not sure she really wanted to hear the answer to that.

"Well his throat kept getting cut, it's an unfortunate side effect."

"Side effect of what?" she asked quietly, certain she didn't want to know the answer to that.

"Of daring to touch a hair on Clara Oswald's head. I would have let you join in the torture but frankly, I think I did a better job. I mean, I'm not as skilled as him so I couldn't do as good a job, but if it makes you feel better, I did it to a dozen different versions of him and you can't remember what happened."

"What did happen?" Even as he said it, memory of any of the events of the previous night increasingly evaded Clara's thought. "I can't remember anything after I entered his flat."

"I saved you," the Doctor replied in his most gentle voice. "That's what happened Clara. I got there before he hurt you. Don't you remember?"

Now she could remember. He'd strapped her down to a table and the Doctor had burst in to rescue her.

"How did you find me?"

"Asked your colleagues. It wasn't hard, he wanted me to find you. See you broken."

"But I'm fine…" Clara smiled warmly at him.

"Yes you are," the Doctor lied. "And you always will be."


	102. Jealous Clara

***Hello one and all! First off, I'd like to dedicate this prompt and any more I post tonight to my amazing dad, whose birthday it is today! Love you dad! Second of all, this prompt and the one that follows it were sent in on tumblr and they're very similar but very different. So, Clara meets someone that leaves her feeling very annoyed and jealous. I hope you enjoy! Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>Clara Oswald had the cutest knock known to mankind. It was about 90% of the reason that the Doctor hadn't given her a TARDIS key yet, he loved hearing her knock on the TARDIS doors at 9am on a Wednesday. So when there was a very subdued tapping on the outside of the TARDIS, the Doctor frowned. She never knocked like that. Something must be wrong, so he crossed the console room quickly and threw the doors open, giving her his biggest grin and thrusting his arms into hug formation welcomingly. She punched him in the balls and left him doubled over and letting out a high-pitched yelp as she stormed past him into the TARDIS, glaring at the back of his head as he collapsed to the TARDIS floor.<p>

"What was that for?" he groaned.

"Your wife came to visit me yesterday!" Clara said in a slightly hysterical voice. "You gave my address. To your wife. To your supposedly dead wife. And oh yeah, she came to visit. Just to pop in, see how you were. She needed your help. And she had that look on her face, like she was going to bang you up against the TARDIS. Has she ever done that?" Clara froze. "Why am I even asking that? I don't want to know."

"Clara," the Doctor wheezed as he clambered to his feet. "I never gave River your contact details. Either Vastra did, or she found them of her own accord, I promise." He stumbled over to the console room, almost losing his footing as he watched Clara. Her hair was tied up, she wasn't wearing makeup and she was increasingly agitated. "What's really wrong?"

"River Song!" Clara snapped. "She's your wife. Why are you travelling with me? Why am I here? What's the point, why aren't you running off and having adventures with River?"

"Are you jealous?" the Doctor asked with a snort of laughter. Clara punched him in the shoulder this time. "Owww!"

"No!" Clara squeaked, way too quickly. "Of course I'm not jealous of River Song, why would I be jealous of your hot, time-travelling, super-intelligent wife who knows where I live and looks at me like I'm dirt on the bottom of your shoe, like I'm some bimbo you've just picked up for the weekend. I've seen the way you look at her, why would I be jealous of that?"

"Are you sure?" the Doctor asked playfully. "Because you're coming off pretty jealous."

"Of course I'm jealous!" Clara yelled, punching him in the shoulder again. "She's your wife! Just how many women have you even slept with over the years?"

The Doctor paused. "That's a loaded question."

"No it's not. It's a very simple question."

"Maybe for you, you haven't slept with any women!"

"Doctor!"

"Clara," the Doctor said softly. "River Song died to me a very long time ago and I've spent a lot of time trying to get over her. Ever since I lost…before I found you I was missing people. I spent almost a hundred years alone. And then I met you. And everything changed. I said goodbye to River Song on Trenzalore. You have nothing to be jealous of. I want you to travel with me because I care about you a lot."

"But I'm not River," Clara shot back. "I'm not as smart as her, or as pretty as her…"

The Doctor cut her off by kissing her. He tried to convince himself that he was only doing to shut Clara up, but as her tongue slipped into his mouth, he was fairly sure that he was enjoying it. After a few seconds, he broke off the kiss and she stared at him, her cheeks red and her eyelashes fluttering in confusion.

"Clara Oswald," the Doctor laughed. "You are every bit as smart, as beautiful, as resourceful and as special to me as anyone that I have ever met. You have nothing to be jealous of. River Song is a part of my past. You're here now and nobody deserves their place on the TARDIS more than you do."

She hugged him now, wrapping herself around him and allowing him to breathe her in. Clara smelled of strawberries, just like she always did and her hair tickled his neck as the contact dislodged it from its bun.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I just thought…River…"

"River Song is nothing. You Clara Oswald, you are everything. I loved her a long time ago, but I've lived a very long life. There's more than enough room for me to love you too."

They kissed again and this time, Clara didn't hold back. After a few moments, they fell apart again and this time she was finally smiling.

"I could get used to that," she said breathlessly.

"So could I Closwald," the Doctor chuckled. "So could I…"


	103. Mature Clara

***Hello one and all! This prompt to similar to the last one, in that River pitches up and Clara gets considerably jealous. However, this one ends rather differently... This one is for whouffleLove. I hope you guys like it! Send them in by review, PM or tumblr :) TPD***

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><p>Clara grabbed the Doctor's hand and pulled him to one side as the gunfire echoed. The Doctor yelped and ducked as they hid behind some barrels. He straightened his bow tie and grinned at Clara, who rolled her eyes. Now? He was doing this now? Straightening his bow tie at this precise moment in time? She wanted to punch him. She did, for emphasis.<p>

"What are those things?!" she hissed.

"No idea."

"Okay," she took a deep breath and decided to try again. "Where are we?"

"No idea."

"Great!" she muttered in a low voice, furious with him now. "Well what are we going to do to stop them killing us when they get closer and realise we're sitting ducks?"

"No idea."

Some Time Lord. "You are completely and utterly useless, you realise that?" Clara spat venomously. "You're the Doctor, think of something!"

"What do you think I've been trying to do?!" he shot back. "Maybe if you'd shut that mouth for ten seconds, I could…ow!" he growled as she slapped him. "We're going to be shot and you're wasting time slapping me and mouthing off. Could you shut up please?!"

Before Clara could shoot back an angry response, the gun fire stopped, as a succession of red laser bolts flew past their location. Clara and the Doctor poked their heads out from behind the barrels. The gun owners were dead, their bodies lying in a crumpled heap, their guns strewn around them. They turned to see who had done the firing. A tall woman, with the curliest hair Clara had ever seen, wearing a leather jacket and carrying a laser pistol, stepped out the shadows, the biggest smirk on her face. River Song.

"Hello sweetie!" she plucked the Doctor off the ground and brushed off his jacket, before looping her arm with his and strolling off. "Who's your friend?" she glanced back to where Clara was still lying in the dirt.

"Clara Oswald," the Doctor said, clearly torn between going back for Clara or not. Clara was already on her feet, but forced herself to remain calm, despite the burning fury in her stomach. "She's my friend, my companion."

"Ahh, another one," River sneered at Clara. "Come along dear, you don't want to fall behind."

Clara caught up with them and linked arms with the Doctor on his other side, smiling cheerfully at River.

"How are you River?" she asked politely, ignoring the urge to take River's pistol and shove it so far up her arse that her large intestine would have to be removed. "I've not seen you since…well spoilers."

"We've met before then?" River asked coldly. "How long have you been travelling with MY Doctor then, Clara was it?"

"Oh I've been travelling with my Doctor for about a year, that sounds about right doesn't it Chin?" Clara nudged him, frowning. "A year?"

"Yes!" the Doctor squeaked, clearly uncomfortable caught in the middle. "A year."

"Fascinating!" River smiled. "He does love his pets, don't you sweetie?"

"River…" the Doctor started but Clara cut him off.

"It's quite all right Doctor, River's your wife after all, and everyone else is superfluous. Anyway, thanks for saving my life River," Clara said breezily. "If you two want to catch up, you know, do your thing, then I'll be waiting in the TARDIS!" she tapped the Doctor's arm cheekily. "Don't be too long you minx!"

She saluted and strolled back to the TARDIS, taking deep breaths as she did so. She wanted to punch River so much but she had resisted every urge, temptation and fluctuation of rage in her body. River was so smug, so superior, Clara didn't know what the Doctor saw in her. Maybe if she dyed her hair blonde, got a gun and learned to fly the TARDIS… Clara shook her head. She was not going to let River Song get her down. She kicked the TARDIS exterior once, brutally and then stepped inside, letting all of her angry flush away. She was going to be the bigger person.

"Clara!" the Doctor yelled as he fell inside the TARDIS. "Clara I am so sorry…"

"What for?" Clara replied with a warm smile that didn't reach her eyes. "River was just being River."

"River was being a bitch," the Doctor replied coldly. "She had no right to talk to you like that, you must have been so angry, so jealous…"

"Jealous?" Clara laughed sincerely. "Of you and her? Down boy."

"No I just meant…" he punched her arm playfully. "You know what I meant. But you're just as gorgeous as she is Clara, and I love you just as much."

"Love me do you?" she smirked as the Doctor went beetroot. "That's cute. I mean, this isn't quite how I imagined you asking me out. But I'll take it."

"No…I mean…I wasn't…unless you want me to?"

"Chin Boy," Clara purred as she put her hands on his shoulders. "If you want to ask me out, be a man and do it."

"Will you go out on a date with me, Clara Oswald?" he said eventually, nerves clearly racking every part of his body. Clara felt a warm, fuzzy feeling rising inside of her. She leaned in and kissed his cheek before whispering in his ear:

"Ask me tomorrow."

"Because tomorrow you might say yes?" he asked hopefully.

"No," she looked back at him with her eyes lighting up. "Because it gives me a day to buy a dress worthy of the occasion."

As she walked off, she could feel the Doctor's eyes on her. Clara turned the corner so she was out of sight and then giggled to herself, resting up against the wall and biting her lip in nerves and pleasure. The Doctor had finally asked her out. She smiled to herself as she heard him exclaiming from the console room.

"Yowsa!"


	104. Abusive Doctor

***Hey guys! Big prompt this one and a cruel one. When the Doctor becomes infected to abuse Clara, their relationship fundamentally changes. Only Clara can save the Doctor from himself, but is the price one too high for her to pay? TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had never been there before. Or so he had told Clara. That was his only excuse for what followed. The only excuse that he gave or could give for the maelstrom of hate and violence that came Clara's way in the weeks that followed was that he had never been there before. He had had no idea of what would happen. What it would do to him. The words were ringing hollow by the end. Clara had made up her mind that she was leaving the TARDIS long before the mess ended; even once she had discovered that the Doctor's treatment of her wasn't his fault. She would have left him to rot, to be consumed by his own anger and hatred, but she couldn't. She wouldn't let him down, even though he had let her down. They had only been on the planet a handful of hours, stopping an invasion force and then they were back on the TARDIS. But those few hours were all it took for the Doctor to get infected.<p>

It started small. It began the next morning as Clara wandered into the console room, yawning and wearing PJs. He looked over at her, frowning at her.

"What is it?" Clara asked, suddenly anxious. "Is there something on my top?"

"Have you put on weight?" he asked, examining her. "You're looking chubby."

Well that had stung. She had spent the next few hours mulling that comment over in her head and then the next time she saw him, he had looked her up and down and asked her if she was using a new hair conditioner, because it was obviously defective.

The comments got harsher very quickly. Chubby became fat within a couple of days and he had started calling her stupid a lot as well. Whenever they were off on adventures, he would start making sniping comments about her to other people that they passed. She was getting pissed off with him and after a week or so, she had a massive go at him about it, saying she was sick of him being such a prick all of the time. The next day, things escalated…

Clara wasn't even sure how it had happened, she was making a soufflé when he walked in and sneered at her, straightening his bow tie. She had asked him what his problem was.

"You're the problem. Another soufflé? You know you're just going to burn it, you stupid whore." Clara ignored the comment. "Ignoring me now Clara? Think you're too good for me?" He grabbed her wrist. "Listen to me when I talk to you Clara."

"Get off me!" she snapped, retracting her wrist and shoving him away. Then, all she felt was pain. His fist had moved like a piston, so fast and so ferocious that Clara went spinning backwards, crashing into the oven. The Doctor laughed. Clara staggered to her feet, her face on fire. She went to hit him back but he sidestepped and tripped her. She clattered to the floor and the Doctor grabbed the open bag of flour and tipped it over her head, laughing. Her cheeks burned with anger more than pain and she stared up at him in fury, the purple of her already forming bruise mixing with the white stuff caked to her body.

"Clean up this mess fatty!" the Doctor snapped and then he stepped past Clara and out of the room. Clara just sat there for a moment, humiliated and furious, close to tears. She didn't understand what could cause the Doctor to act in such a way. She didn't clean the kitchen, that wasn't her job. Instead she went to shower. She heard him sonic his way in and she turned to confront him but he grabbed and yanked her by the hair, caught hold of her head and crunched it against the wall before spitting on her and leaving there, lying on the shower floor, her head bleeding.

The Doctor had changed, that was beyond doubt now. And that was what Clara didn't understand. As she picked herself up, naked and bloody, she couldn't see what she had done to provoke such a stark change in his behaviour. She knew she should get out of that TARDIS and never go back. And she would. Once she found out why he was behaving the way that he was. She needed the TARDIS' help.

It took her two days to work it out. In those two days, she was subject to many an insult, but the physical violence was at least used sparingly. It was towards the end of the second day that she realised things were only going to get worse, as he broke her nose and hurled a freshly poured, boiling cup of tea over her. As Clara applied ointment to her burns, the TARDIS scans she had set into motion finally produced a result. Something was in his brain. It made sense; he would never be so cruel and abusive towards her of his own accord. In a way, Clara was relieved. In another way, she was upset. If there had been no explanation, if it was just the Doctor turning out to be not the man she thought he was, she could have walked away, she could have got out.

But no. Something was causing his abusive behaviour. Which meant that she had to stay and get rid of it. She had to save him, even if that meant enduring torture. She wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that it was happening, or the fact that it was him. Every harsh comment, every punch and every humiliation, it all felt so much worse, knowing that it was her Doctor that was doing it. But she couldn't let him down. She couldn't leave him to be consumed.

The only way to get it out of him was to reverse the damage. To make him see why he liked Clara, why he didn't want to abuse her. But every day it grew harder and harder. As Clara nurtured another fierce black eye, sat on her bed, she half-considered leaving. But then he would die. She knew it. The TARDIS knew it. The machine was trying its best to protect her, but the Doctor was clever and the last thing Clara wanted was for him to take his anger out on his beloved TARDIS rather than her. He crashed into her bedroom and she looked at him. He sneered at her and straightened his bow tie.

"Clara!" he said cheerfully. "Would you like to go and see the French Imperial Troops in action? They have a fantastic selection of maces, I was hoping to test out one or two on you. Literally of course. But hey, they're not spiked, so they'll probably only crack your rib cage. Although I'm sure if I swing extra hard…sorry I'm rambling. If you prefer, I could rearrange your pretty face some more? I've been aching to knock a tooth or two out."

Clara winced at the thought of her teeth lying on the TARDIS floor so she gave the Doctor her best smile and took his hand, kissing his cheek. "I'd love to see the French maces with you Doctor," she said in a sickly sweet voice. His face lit up like a twelve year old. It send a shudder down Clara's spine. That childlike enthusiasm had always been something she'd loved about the Doctor. Now it was directed at abusing her.

He ended up collapsing one of her lungs, which meant a very painful tube being inserted into her chest. He had been particularly gleeful about that and for Clara, that was her breaking point. She had to get out. But she couldn't leave the Doctor. She cried herself to sleep that night, so torn between the man she had used to love and the desperate need to escape. In the end, the next day proved to be the one she needed.

In the end, it was simple. She told him that she loved him and that he was destroying her. He didn't care about the destruction, but when she broke down and told him how much she loved him and needed him to come back to her, then he snapped back, almost like magic. It had been Clara's finest speech, finer than when she'd stopped him killing the Time Lords and it was bittersweet.

They didn't look at each other afterwards. He was back to normal and he thanked her and apologised profusely, but their relationship had changed. He'd had no control over what he'd done, but he didn't see it that way and every time he saw the scars he had left on her, it rocked him to his core. As for Clara, even though it wasn't him, it had been him. And she couldn't look at him the same way, no matter how much she loved him. She still saw the man who had nearly killed her, destroyed her self-esteem and humiliated her.

So Clara left. And the Doctor moved on. Because he had to. And because of that one mistake, he had lost her. He had never been to that planet before. And he was never, ever going back. Because it had cost him everything.


	105. Allonswin Dress Up

***Hey troops! Did someone say Allonswin? This cute, fluffy prompt is for the amazing Counting Sinful Stars, who I really hope likes it! As ever guys, feel free to keep sending them in all day every day, tumblr PM or review! TPD***

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><p>Clara loved kids. She was always babysitting for various people and today was no exception. Two five year old twins from across the road, one boy and one girl. The kids were adorable little things and Clara loved looking after them. As she finished making them fish fingers for lunch, she heard the warping of the TARDIS and grabbed a packet of custard out of the cupboard and threw in a few extra fish fingers. She heard the knock at the door and giggled as she skipped through the hall, shooting an eye on the kids who were thankfully still glued to Sesame Street. She was expecting the Doctor, but not the one who was stood on her doorstep in his amazing suit with his Sonic the Hedgehog hair. He frowned at her, holding out his psychic paper.<p>

"Come quick, babysitting. Need help. Fun guaranteed. With a kiss," he recited, shooting her an exasperated look. "We've only met a couple of times Clara Oswald, but if you must keep inviting me to houses to play with children, could you at least 400 years until I clearly don't have better things to do."

"Well you're here now," she smirked, crossing her arms. "You came anyway."

"Of course I came!" he mumbled. "You wanted my help, so here I am."

"Great!" she beamed. "I cooked your favourite. Kids!" Clara shouted, peaking in to check they were still in one piece. "Food!"

The children rushed into the kitchen and the Doctor followed, two steps behind Clara. She took the fish fingers out of the oven, served them onto three plates, two of them with smiley faces and then produced a bowl of custard. She handed the smiley faced plates to the kids, who gobbled away at it and slung the rest the way of the Doctor, who looked utterly disgusted.

"What the…is this?" he stopped himself saying a bad word in front of Tommy and Tina.

"Your favourite!" Clara smirked. "Fish fingers and custard skinny boy."

He frowned, dipped the fish finger in the custard and took a bite. He wretched and spat it into the bin, before grabbing a glass of water and downing the entire thing as the kids giggled at him and Clara watched on, highly amused. He stared at her in horror.

"That is the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted in my entire lives," he cried. "What on earth is Chinny playing at that that is his favourite food?"

Clara shrugged, unable to stop a ridiculous grin spreading across her face. The Doctor ran a hand through his hair and the kids giggled at how crazy he was all over again. Clara crossed the room and ran her own hands through it, smiling millimetres from his face and loving every second of the bemused look spreading across his face.

"Thank…you?" he asked, utterly confused. "So kids, what do you want to do after lunch?" he asked in his best kid voice. Clara knew he'd be the perfect man to call. He was practically a child himself.

"Play dress up!" Tina yelled and Tommy jumped up and down. Clara and the Doctor exchanged a look. She smiled and then he smiled and before they knew it, they were all racing upstairs to play dress up. The Doctor winked at Clara and told her that he would be right back, before racing out to the TARDIS. She suspected she knew what he had planned and wasn't surprised at all when he crashed back into the house with a huge trunk of clothes that she strongly suspected was even bigger on the inside. He dived in and threw Clara an outfit.

"Pirates?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Shiver me timbers! Allonsy!" he was grinning like an idiot. Clara quickly changed into the pirate costume and when she went back into the living room, the Doctor threw her a fake sword and the kids were sat on the sofa, dressed as mini-pirates cheering as the Doctor went for Clara with his own sword. She blocked the blow and laughed despite herself, arching round and rapping him on the arm. He chuckled at the pain shooting through him and then they were parrying each other's blows, going in and out, weaving whilst Tommy and Tina cheered. They took photos and then they swapped to different costumes.

Clara spent the whole afternoon playing dressing up with the Doctor and the kids, until eventually, tuckered out, the kids fell asleep on the sofa, leaving the Doctor and Clara sat on the floor, equally exhausted. They shared a look.

"Thank you for today," Clara said quietly, so she didn't wake the kids. "It was a lot of fun."

"Well," he replied with his trademark cheeky smile. "I can see why Chinny keeps you around Clara Oswald. You're a blast. And so good with kids." Clara leaned in and kissed his cheek. He went red.

"You react better than he does to those sorts of things," she giggled. "He likes to think he's cool, but I think you have the cool down."

"Yeah, I guess I do!" the Doctor looked very proud of himself as he stood up. "Until the next time Clara Oswald."

"I look forward to it," she said gently, hugging him as he dragged the trunk to the TARDIS and she heard it dematerialise. Sometimes, she liked a pleasant surprise. And as much as she loved her Doctor, his previous incarnation could be a lot of fun too. She looked back at the kids. Time to put them to bed then…


	106. Water Fight

***Hey guys, this one is for the amazing Counting Sinful Stars. 4 teenage Doctors, 5 teenage companions, one liability and the water boy. I really hope you like this prompt, as one giant arse water fight took place. Inspired by the ones me and my siblings had when were younger, only on a larger scale. Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>When John Smith XI had invited them over one parched summer's evening for an afternoon of relaxation, with his younger brother John Smith XII and his older brothers, John Smith IX and John Smith X, the girls, Rory and Mickey had been excited. What they hadn't anticipated was arguably one of the most fun afternoons of their childhood. When they arrived, 11 had informed them that he and his brothers had collected ten of the finest water guns that money could buy, hundreds of water balloons, and that the game was afoot. They were to divide up into two teams. They were going to do Doctors vs everyone, but that seemed unfair as they were outnumbered 7 to 4. So Rory swapped sides to make it boys vs girls, with Mickey set up as the re-filler and referee. The rules were simple. Once you were soaked, you were escorted back to your team's base. Anyone could escape, but only by being tagged by a team mate. The match ended when all five players were free. About ten minutes in, he realised exactly what that made him and exclaimed: "Oh my God! I'm nothing but the water boy…"<p>

The boys took an early but thoroughly expected blow. It took Amy less than fifteen minutes to track down her boyfriend and signal for the pincer manoeuvre. Rory should have been staying close to 11 but had got lost and Amy and Rose smashed him with four water balloons, cackling as they sprayed him and Rory yelped. 11 ran to go and help him, but 12 stopped him. They would be running into a trap. With Rory having been captured by the girls, 10 confidently insisted that he could rescue Rory. 9 warned him against it, but 10 went in all guns blazing and bravado and was swiftly humiliated by a very tactically placed Donna and Martha. But the boys knew their tactics now. Donna and Martha were guarding Ten and Rory, whilst Amy was the bait and Rose the executor. That just left…

11 was taken by surprise as Clara leapt from the tree, behind her boyfriend. She raised up her hands in defence.

"Truce?" she asked. "We can take them all out?"

11 nodded and lowered his gun, going to Clara. She kissed him lightly and smashed a balloon over his floppy hair. 9 and 12 shared a look. Although they were almost 7 years apart, 9 having just turned 20 and 12 was 13, the two brothers were closer, just as 10 and 11 were closer, being 17 and 16 respectively. Their brothers were useless, complete idiots. 12 had all the fury, 9 had all the tactics. Clara was easy, she had a soft spot for 12 and when he lay in the bushes and started crying, she got close enough to get a balloon to the chest, 12 whooping and laughing.

Going for prisoners was pointless. The girls weren't going to go for Clara, she was superfluous and 12 and 9 knew they were too outnumbered to go for Rory and their brothers. Rose and Amy were still stalking around and they would be tough to collapse, they were a strong team. 9 fired from range, but everyone knew the guns were useless. 12 hurled a long range balloon that splashed inches from Amy, who trained her eyes in his direction. She ran for him and realised a split second too late it was a trap as 9 shot out between her and the on-rushing Rose, a gun in each hand as he had taken 12s and he shot them both simultaneously, laughing deliriously.

9 and 12 stalked, their eyes pinned on the girl's prison. 12 nodded and went in ahead, surprised when he wasn't instantly shot. Donna was stood, directly in front of 9, 10 and Rory, smirking. 12 looked around, waiting for the trap to be sprung as he edged closer to Donna. 9 hung back, confused. Then he clocked it and swore. He turned on his heels but was too late. Donna and 12 hit each other with water balloons at the same moment and as 9 turned, he saw Amy, Clara, Rose and Martha all with balloons, smirking.

"Ah," 9 grinned. "Ladies. Run!"

He dived to his left, running for the other gents. Balloons exploded to his left and right. He threw one back over his shoulder and heard Clara scream as she took one to the face. He threw himself into a hedge as the girls surrounded him.

"Come out sweetie, this'll be easier!" Amy was saying. 9 still had two guns. He stepped out and fired them both at the same moment Amy hurled the balloon squaring into his groin. 9 toppled as Rose and Martha squealed as they were sprayed.

"We won!" Amy cheered as 9 doubled over in pain.

"Well what do you expect?" he grunted. "I had Chin and Matchstick to deal with. Not to mention the liability!"

"Oi!" Rory sulked. "I am not the liability!"

Nobody had the heart to correct him. 9 clipped his brothers round the ear angrily. "Oh Clara!" he teased, putting on his little brother's voice. "Let's go and tag team the girls. Oh Clara, I love you so much, let's get married and have babies and screw over my brothers!" He made kissy noises at 11, who was blushing crimson. 10 snorted with laughter.

"Oh not a word from you, hero!" 9 snorted. "Next time, stop trying to impress Rose!"

Rose went bright pink and 12 chuckled. "Fuck this," 9 grumbled. "I'm going…"

"9?" Donna called sweetly. He swivelled and all 9 of them threw balloons at him.


	107. Bittersweet News II

***Hey guys! So a couple of weeks ago, I wrote a prompt where Clara gets pregnant with the Doctor's child and finds out a couple of months after his death. And then I was convinced to write more of it. So, here's a sequel. A reprise. A following on. An epilogue. Take your pick. I hope you enjoy! TPD***

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><p>"Mummy?! Mummy?! Mummy?!"<p>

Clara sighed. Her back ached, it had been a long day and now she had to muster up the enthusiasm to deal with Ellie again. Her daughter had just turned six and was becoming one hell of a handful. Of course she was, look who her father was. Clara felt instantly paralysed by pain at the thought of him, even after so long. Her daughter thundered downstairs and into her mother's arms. Her thick, long brown hair nearly reached the bottom of her back and her eyes were shimmering green, a constant reminder of what Clara had lost. She had woken up one morning, aged four and a half, and declared she was wearing a bow tie to school that day. Clara had cried for hours.

"What is it Ellie sweetheart?" Clara asked gently, giving Ellie her best 'mum' voice.

"Can I stay round Lacey's tonight?" she asked, hopping up and down, exchanging feet and grinning in a very familiar way. "Can I? Can I? Can I?"

Clara allowed herself a small smile. "Go on then," she chuckled. "But I'll have to speak to Lacey's dad!" she added and Ellie gave a knowing smile.

"Lacey's dad is lovely," Ellie said cautiously and Clara raised an eyebrow. "Lacey doesn't have a mummy and I don't have a daddy, maybe you and Lacey's daddy could get married and then we'd be sisters and live happily ever after?"

Six year olds were blunt. Ellie had her father's bluntness and lack of social awareness. Clara wanted to cry but instead smiled. She knew she was in a bad way when her daughter was trying to set her up. Angie and Nina had been trying for six years. Clara wasn't interested. She had Ellie, the only person in the world who mattered. But was she just using her as an excuse? The truth was, she was still in love with the Doctor. The reason she didn't want any other blokes over was that how could she explain the TARDIS, still sat like a statue in her bedroom? Every so often, she'd go inside, play around with some of the switches and hope for a miracle. She'd watch some video files, just to listen to his voice, to refresh her memory of his face and floppy hair.

Clara was alone for the evening then. That was when she heard it.

"No," she whispered. "Please dear God no."

She ran upstairs, desperate for the sound to be a dematerialisation. It wasn't, the TARDIS was still there, and Clara screamed in agony. She was going to kill him over again. He was knocking now, she could hear it, like her front door was going to collapse. If she ignored him, maybe he'd go away. He didn't, still knocking. She heard him shout her name and looked out the window. Bow tie, flipping hair, anxious look. She let out a scream of pure frustration and anger. Then she realised her mistake. He thought she was in trouble. She heard the whir of the sonic and knew what was coming.

She met him before he'd made it past the lounge, tears flowing as she slapped him so hard that he went flying. As he staggered back, she grabbed him so tightly that she thought he was going to snap, screaming and crying.

"Clara?" he asked, agitated. "What is it?" she looked up at him. "Oh," he said quietly. "You've aged. How long was I gone?"

"Six years," she snapped. "Now get out."

"What?" he asked, quietly. "Why?"

"Because I said so." She couldn't do this. Not again. She'd lost him once already. "Just get out!" she screamed, her voice cracking, her soul breaking. "I can't do this, not with you. So just leave." She had to think of something to make him go. Then it hit her like a train. "Go back and stop this happening. Change time. Make it so I don't have to wait six years for you…"

"Okay," he said quietly. "If you're sure…"

"Time can be rewritten, do it!" she snarled.

And then he was gone. And she broke all over again. Because she had sent him to his death. She could have changed everything, kept him for just a little bit longer. But that would have erased Ellie and she couldn't do it, wouldn't do it. She had lost the Doctor once, having him back was just too painful. She took a deep breath. She was going to ask out Lacey's dad after all. Maybe it was for the best.


	108. Oh God! Just the Doctor will do!

***Hey everyone! This first prompt of the day was sent in anon on tumblr. It asked for the following lines: "Oh God!" "Just the Doctor will do." So I asked myself, which sassy, cheeky piece of shit Doctor who is thoroughly underrated is most likely to say that line. Oh hey 9...So, Sasswin prompt for you now, with just a dash of Rose Tyler and a sprinkling of Souffez. I hope you enjoy and keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>Clara screamed as the spaceship re-entered the atmosphere, bits and pieces of it falling off and dissipating around her. She had absolutely no idea what was going on with the console in front of her, the mechanisms of futuristic spaceships had absolutely not been on the curriculum for her school this term. Where the hell was her husband when she needed him? She heard the ship fire a monotonous warning, telling her to raise the blast shields. Clara pulled out her sonic and swished it over the console, thinking about raising the blast shields as hard as she could. Thankfully, that had worked, but there was no sonic setting for crash landing. How had she ended up being the only person left alive on this bloody ship? As Clara braced herself for the possibility that she might die, she refused to let herself believe that. He would come. He always came.<p>

"Doctor?" she screamed, as if summoning him was that easy.

At that point, the doors to the cabin shot open and Clara whirled round, her hair flicking her shoulders as it whipped and her eyes full of hope. There couldn't be anyone on this ship with less knowledge of how to safely land this ship than her. At least they were all from the right bloody time zone. It was him. Sort of. It was his previous incarnation, all leather jacket and short hair and bright smile and awful, truly awful ears. She stared at him, relief and shock all rolled into one.

"Oh God!" she muttered, a combination of exasperation at getting the wrong Doctor and relief that he had at least pitched up to save her.

"Just the Doctor will do," he replied with a cheeky grin. "Hello!"

"No time for your sass!" Clara shouted. "This ship's going to crash and I have no idea how to pilot it, so do what you do best and fix this mess!"

He looked taken-aback by this, his cocksure grin shaken just for a moment before returning wider than ever. He shot past her to the ships controls and shouted for her to help him. Clara raced over and he looked at her, examining the control board.

"This is going to be close," he said, looking at her. He sounded serious, but his smile covered his whole face, his eyes lit up like a five year old. He looked like the Doctor in those moments and it was clear to see that was a 900 year old man-child. It was why she loved him. Well one of the many reasons. He was flipping and pulling and steering, directly Clara with a ferocity that was unlike her Doctor, the fury of a Time Lord that she rarely saw. Then, as the ship levelled off, he smiled at her again, all the anger and energy gone, leaving only her happy, smiling Doctor.

"So, I'm all done here," he grinned. "What was your name?"

"Clara," she said, nibbling her lip. "Clara Oswald."

She grabbed him and kissed him, unable to resist the urge. He was every bit her Doctor, so she didn't feel the slightest element of guilt and he was handsome, ears aside. What was it with the Doctor and his facial features? The adrenaline was still pumping through her and she wanted nothing more than to kiss him. After a moment or so, he broke the kiss, his eyebrows raised and then he was looking beyond her, to where a blonde girl stood at the entrance, arms folded, eyes dangerous.

"Stay in the TARDIS? It'll be dangerous?" she asked in a mocking tone. "So I'm supposed to wait in there while you hang about snogging random girls?"

Clara went pink. It had never occurred to her that the Doctor would be travelling with a companion. This was going to be awkward. He looked between her and Rose and Clara could see the look on his face when he looked at Rose. It was a look similar to the one that her Doctor gave her, only from back in the early days, before they were together. It was still tentative, not fully formed. He liked her, he just hadn't realised how much yet.

"I'm sorry," Clara said, holding out her hands apologetically. "Entirely my fault, I jumped him. Adrenaline rush you know, thought I was going to die, handsome bloke. I'm Clara by the way, I'm really sorry about this mess."

"Rose," she said icily. "You don't mind if we go now, do you Doctor?"

"Of course not," he shot Clara an apologetic look. "Just one question Clara, how did you summon me? Because I got a message on my psychic paper, not many people are capable of doing that. Also, one more question, sorry but I'm just too keen, what happened here? What happened to all the crew, why were you flying a ship you clearly didn't know how to?"

Clara took a deep breath, how on earth was she going to explain this. She shrugged and tried to think of a place to start.

"Oh you know," she chuckled. "Pirates."

"Pirates?" Rose asked incredulously.

"Yes pirates," Clara said as politely as she could. "I'm not technically from this timeline, I was playing around with my husband's vortex manipulator and I didn't realise it was still working and I ended up stuck here, stupid thing conked out on me, so I threw it away. Anyway, after I landed, the ship was attacked by pirates, they killed everyone and stripped away the ship, it was crashing to Earth. I survived because I hid in the air vents," she shrugged at the Doctor's look of admiration. She'd picked up a few tricks, travelling with him after all. "I've got good survival instincts," she acknowledged. Rose snorted. "So then I called for help. I met you once, a very long time ago so I knew how to contact you. And sure enough, here you are."

It was a very compelling story and it was almost entirely true. She left out the fact that she was married to the Doctor, that might ruffle a few feathers.

"Wait, wait!" Rose stalked over. "So you have a husband, but you're kissing the Doctor?"

Damn. She hadn't thought of that. Guess she'd have to bite the bullet here.

"Not cheating if he's been dead for over two thousand years!" she laughed awkwardly. The Doctor looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Rose was giving her a look of disgust. "Any chance of a lift home?"

It was fair to say that the ride home was awkward at best. Rose was a lot more cheerful and was chatting animatedly with the Doctor, while Clara sat in the corner like a naughty school child. The TARDIS landed and the Doctor went with her to her door, despite her insistence that it wasn't necessary. As she got to the door, it flung open and her Doctor was stood on the threshold, pulling her into a long, deep hug.

"Oh God Clara," he whispered. "What the hell happened? Where did you go?"

"Vortex manipulator," she mumbled. "The Doctor saved me."

The Doctor and her Doctor exchanged a look.

"Nice bow tie," said the Doctor.

"Thanks, bow ties are cool," her Doctor replied. "Thanks for getting her home in one piece."

"No problem, she's a great kisser," the Doctor chuckled. Her Doctor shot her a look as the Doctor strolled off. Clara swore internally. She was going to get hell for this one.


	109. Drifting in Space

***Hello guys, busy day of prompting ahead, hope you guys like what's coming! This one from tumblr is a drifting in space prompt based on Gravity. I've not seen Gravity, but nevertheless, I hope I captured the gravity of the situation...Okay that was just awful. Read the damn prompt. TPD***

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><p>The sounds of the explosion were still ringing in Clara's ears. Her head was pounding, the headache threatening to pulsate out her brain. She couldn't see, the white flash of the bomb so close to her had left her momentarily blind. At least, she hoped it was momentary. All she could see was white, all she hear was screaming, her arms and legs were numb and slowly starting to regain feeling. She was drifting, she knew that much. She would have assumed that she was dead, but her entire body rocked with shooting pains, like she was on fire. The explosion probably. At least her suit was undamaged, but then the Doctor had promised that it would be. Speaking of her fiancé, where the hell was he? He must be drifting nearby as well, even assuming that he survived the explosion, same as her. Clara blinked a few times and she had dark spots appearing in her vision. That was a good sign; it meant that she wasn't totally blind. The black and the white started to coalesce, forming images. Clara could feel her left arm, she twitched it and blinding torment shot through it, all the way up to her shoulder. She opted not to move it again.<p>

As she realised she could see, and the sounds in her ears died out, Clara knew that she was in trouble. There was nothing left to hear except her own ragged breathing. The spacesuit was keeping her alive, just as the Doctor had promised, but she had no control, no movement. She was just moving slowly through the endless black of space. There were stars, blips of white and blue amongst the endless sea of black, but that was it. She was totally and completely alone. She tried to move her legs, to rotate but that proved agony, her legs pinned in place. She was half convinced she'd broken almost every bone in her body, but at least she wasn't dead.

She shouted the Doctor's name, aware that only she herself could hear her strangled, nerve-wracked cry in a voice that sounded so croaky if he could hear her, she doubted that he would. Clara put all of her efforts into arching her body, rotating so that she could see what was behind her. She had to. The Doctor had to be there, he simply had to. If she was going to die here, floating in this endless hell, then at least she could do it looking at his face. She wondered what had happened to the TARDIS. It had been on the ship with them when it had exploded, but she doubted the box had been destroyed. Hell, if she could survive, the TARDIS would make it. She half-expected it to materialise around her, the Doctor grinning like an idiot, telling her not to worry, he'd fixed everything. But that was a dream, a fantasy. Clara couldn't indulge herself in fantasy. Even if it was the only thing she had left.

Despite the fact that she was crippled, her entire body feeling as if she'd been tied down and beaten repeatedly by a hammer, she curved, the sounds of her own screams shooting through her head, making her task all the more arduous. But as she managed to turn herself, she saw him.

The Doctor was close, a speck of life amongst the debris and death. Their eyes met and Clara allowed herself a smile, her lips cracked and bloody. He nodded to her and tried to manoeuvre himself closer but to no avail. They were hopeless, with no control over their own bodies, trapped in the pit of gravity that was this little corner of hell. They had been on a romantic getaway, on a little cruise ship, millions of miles from earth. They'd been happy. But then the terrorists had blown up the ship. The Doctor had tried to stop them and had almost succeeded, but they'd barely been able to get into the spacesuits in time, and hadn't been able to get back to the TARDIS. They were the only survivors, if you could call what they had left life.

Then she saw it. There were many words for what it was, all of which tumbled around in her broken mind because there was only one word for what it was to Clara. Hope. She couldn't see how big it was, or who owned it. But any space craft was better than this. If they took her on board and shot her, at least she would be put out of her misery. As she and the Doctor drifted towards the craft, it loomed, bigger and bigger until it dominated her sight. Until it was all that she could see. Until a door opened and she drifted inside, crashing down as the artificial gravity kicked in and she felt every single part of her body aching for oblivion. Her helmet came off and she was staring at a face. White, blue eyes, dark hair. Everything else was superfluous, a blur. Clara felt herself blurring, her mind close to giving in. At least the pain was slowing, almost evaporating as Clara's vision finally went black…

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><p>She woke on the TARDIS, on her own bed. She tried to move but her entire body was stiff. She blinked a couple of times to check her eyes were still functioning properly, and then all she saw was purple tweed as he hugged her close to his chest.<p>

"Clara!" he gasped. "You're okay. We drifted into a spaceship. The TARDIS had locked onto the nearest centre of gravity, the planet we were nearby when we crashed. I got the kind people in the craft to drop us off. You've been out for about 12 hours. You suffered massive internal injuries in the explosion, frankly it was a miracle you didn't die. The spacesuit preserved as best it could and thankfully, I was able to repair the damage once you were in the TARDIS. I imagine you feel stiff, awkward, in pain? All perfectly normal. Don't try and move for a few hours. But Clara," he broke the hug and she could finally see his tear-stained face and quiff of dark hair. "You're alive. And you're going to be fine."


	110. Clara Cheats On The Doctor

***Hello guys, trigger warning on this chapter, as it's a pretty dark one. Clara cheats on the Doctor and when he finds out, shit goes down. I hope you guys like it, more to come (and it doesn't get much cheerier I'm afraid). Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>Clara Oswald felt dirty. She could barely look at herself in the mirror. It had been a few weeks since it had happened and the Doctor had only been to see her twice in that time. Both times she'd faked illness. She didn't want to see him, couldn't see him; couldn't look him in the eye knowing what had happened. Knowing what she'd done. She was in the TARDIS now though, had been for a couple of days. She had given in. She loved her boyfriend, so much and she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She had to try and find a way to move past this. She sat on her bed, brushing her hair for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning, anything to avoid moving. She caught sight of her reflection. She was wearing no makeup, she was pale, her eyes looked dead and her hair was limp and lifeless. She looked dreadful and she knew it. But it didn't compare to how she felt on the inside. Knowing that she'd had someone else inside of her…<p>

The Doctor was there, all of a sudden. Standing in the doorway. He was looking at her, with something in his eyes. Disappointment, certainly. Heartbreak, definitely. But also anger, righteous anger, bubbling, just beneath the surface. He was furious, Clara could see that, but he was trying to hide it from her. For what purpose, only he knew. She should have suspected that he would find it, despite Clara's best attempts to hide it from him. He was holding something in his right hand and the hand twitched, the object flying in Clara's direction. She didn't try to catch it, she just let it bounce painlessly off of her chest.

"Clara?" he asked, quietly but sharply. Not gentle, not tender. Not like her Doctor.

"Doctor." There was no point even trying to deny it. Her voice was monotone.

"That's a pregnancy test. Your pregnancy test. It's negative, congratulations."

"Thank you." Words could not express how happy she'd been to see that she wasn't.

"So," he was clearly agitated, but Clara wasn't sure what to say to him. Nothing she said would make it better. Could make it better. "So, you know I can't get you pregnant. We're not compatible. So, if you know having sex with me can't get you pregnant, why would you need to take a pregnancy test?" His voice was pleading, begging her to give him a reasonable explanation. There wasn't one. There was only the truth.

"I think you know the answer to that," she replied, in a voice that showed none of the swirling pit of emotion within her. Shame, horror, anguish, despair. Anger. Above all else.

"You cheated on me."

The words hung in the air. Clara hung her head, nodding once, slowly. It was easier just to say it, just to accept it. She had had sex with another man. She just hoped that that would be enough for him. She'd promised herself the shame would be kept secret. Nobody could know the truth.

"Who? When? Why?"

The first two questions had been angry, snarled, something so completely unlike her Doctor, the Doctor she knew. But the third was all him, a desperate, begging noise, the sound of a man whose entire life had come crashing down and he didn't understand it. How could he understand it, when she didn't? Clara couldn't hold in the tears any longer. She started crying, silently. She knew he was going to drop her home and leave her alone. To deal with this.

"Clara!" he snapped, angry now, angry with her. Not with the other bloke, but with her. She had to hold on, had to stay strong, despite the weeping, despite the crying. She couldn't possibly tell him the truth. "Is this what you want? Me to be in pain? Did I do something to you Clara, did I do something terrible and now you're getting back at me?"

"This isn't your fault," she whispered.

"Of course it is!" he laughed hysterically. "You're way too good for me Clara, I must have done something to deserve it…"

"No!" she sobbed. "No, don't talk about yourself that way," she was shaking. "I never wanted to hurt you, I never wanted you to have to find out. I love you so much and you're so good to me, way better to me than I deserve. I would never hurt you. My Doctor…"

"Then how did this happen?" he said, so softly and yet so full of anguish and despair. The anger was back a moment later and he turned away from her to punch the wall.

"I was raped."

The second she said the words, the words that she had never wanted to say, never wanted to admit, she felt both instantly better and instantly worse at the same time. She had barely said it loud enough for him to hear, but he definitely heard, because he froze, like a statue. Then he was on her, pulling her into the biggest hug he'd ever pulled her into as she wept into his chest.

"I was raped." She said it louder this time, almost a wail.

"Clara," the Doctor breathed, tears streaming down his cheeks, landing on the top of Clara's head. "I am so…"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't you dare apologise to me. You have nothing to be sorry for. You are so perfect and I've let you down."

"This isn't your fault," the Doctor said and Clara shuddered at the sudden edge to his voice. She wanted to say something but couldn't. So they just sat there in silence, both crying, until neither of them had any more tears left to shed.


	111. Time Crash

***Another prompt for you guys now, this one both Souffez and Souffaldi (sort of). Clara is travelling with the 12th Doctor, when all of a sudden, there is a TARDIS collision and she finds herself alone in the console room with a man she recognises all too well...I really hope that you guys enjoy it and please keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor whipped around the console, quick as a flash, to scoop Clara into a light kiss, his dark blue jacket flapping around him like a cape as he moved. His eyes were trained on her, and she ran a hand through his grey hair, planting a soft kiss on his lips in return.<p>

"My Clara," he muttered in his soft voice, the Scottish seeping through when he said her name. "I will be right back. I just need to get some wretched fibrillating power conduits."

"I love it when you talk TARDIS to me," Clara breathed. "Hurry back Chin."

He shot her a wink, his face all smiles as he skulked off into the TARDIS interior, leaving Clara alone in the console room. She stared after him for a moment, then smiled to herself and turned round, back towards the console. She bumped into someone and whipped round in shock. Who else could be in the TARDIS? She froze in horror, as did the person that she had bumped into. He was wearing a beige jacket and a red bow tie, his quiff all askew and his smile fragmented. But it was her Doctor. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to the punch.

"Who are you?" he snapped. "What're you doing in my TARDIS?"

The sound broke her heart. He didn't recognise her. She could feel herself tearing up. Her Doctor, the man that she had fallen in love with, stood right in front of her and he didn't recognise her. He had absolutely no idea who she was. And she didn't know what to say to him. She wanted to pull him into the biggest hug and cry on his shoulder and tell him that she loved him, but all that would do was make him say more things that she couldn't bear to hear. So she stuttered and his non-existent eyebrows flickered up.

"Well that's helpful," he grumbled. "Ah look, desktop's changed. Oh dear, of course, I remember now, there's a precedent for this. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. TARDIS shields must be down, I bet you, I mean I fucked up badly, am I right Doctor?"

Her breath hitched in her throat. She couldn't help but giggle slightly. He thought that she was him?

"Blimey, trans-gender regeneration, wondered if one of those was ever going to happen," he chuckled. "I have to admit though, I don't half look good. That's a lot of hair, so much hair!" he was running a hand through Clara's hair now, sniffing it. She shuddered at his touch, hoping that he didn't notice. "And the chest area, blimey!" he had his face in her breasts now. She was thinking about personal space and then reminded herself that for him, technically it was his own personal space. In any case, what she wouldn't give to have him touch her in certain places again.

"Down boy," she chuckled, her voice difficult to contain as she felt heat rising inside her. This was her Doctor after all. "You'll have to wait and see."

"You know me," he chuckled, before laughing out loud at his own joke. Even Clara managed a smile. "Eh, eh, you know how impatient I am, we are…" he frowned. "Bloody time travel. Anyway, Doctor, where's your companion?"

Clara bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. At this moment, the Doctor came crashing up the stairs, shouting and both she and the 11th Doctor whizzed round. He froze when he saw his younger self and opened his mouth to speak.

"Ah hello John," Clara smiled brightly. "Long story. This is the Doctor," she giggled. "Yes I know I'm the Doctor as well but we talked about regeneration didn't we? Doctor, this is John Oswald, my companion."

The Doctor's face was nothing short of priceless. Clara wished that she had a camera. The Doctor stalked over and flipped a couple of switches.

"Let's disentangle your TARDIS's," he said, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice. "Doctor." He spat the last word and his predecessor raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with him?" he muttered to Clara.

"Oh don't mind John," Clara said loudly. "He has a few problems. Anger issues, bit of a wreck really, don't know what he'd do without me. Now then, we need to separate our TARDIS's, don't you think?"

She flipped a couple of switches to make it look like she knew what she was doing until the 11th Doctor had disappeared and then her Doctor turned to her, clearly annoyed.

"I'm your companion?" he sounded outraged.

"Problem?" Clara smirked.

"That must've been rough on you." There was a touch of resentment in his voice. Clara felt guilty instantly.

"You're the only Doctor for me," she replied.


	112. Clara Dies

***Hello troops! Another rough one for you, sent in anon on tumblr. In this one, the Doctor loses the love of his life...As ever, I really hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting and keep sending them in. TPD***

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><p>Clara was supposed to have been right behind him. But somehow they had been separated in amongst the fighting. Rebel forces were trying to overthrow the 24th Great British Empire and they were at the heart of London. He hadn't meant to bring her here, but things had got out of hand. The Doctor turned, looking across the rioting streets. Then, the cannons went off. The booming, great cannons, signifying that the Emperor had something to say. The Doctor had no inclination to hear it. All he needed to do was find Clara and get the hell out of there. But he was stopped in his tracks when the big screen came on, the billboards on almost every building lit up with it. Clara. There were other people of course, nearly twenty in all, but all the Doctor could see was Clara. His heart stopped working. They couldn't be transmitting from far away, he could still get to her. They were all stripped down to their underwear, stood on planks. It was an execution, there was no way around it. Clara was coated in a grey substance, same as the others. It was like they had been dipped in concrete. The Doctor knew the substance well. It made the wearer incredibly dense. They were going to sink. They were going to be dropped into water and they would sink to the bottom, as sure as if they were made of concrete, not merely dipped in it. And then they would drown. She looked terrified but defiant. His Clara. Her eyes were glistening, as if she was looking to him for help. He was coming.<p>

He soniced, looking to trace the source of the broadcast. Chaos had erupted around him, the Emperor was making some grand speech about how the protestors would not defy him and how these captured souls would make a statement to the world of Great Britain's strength. The Doctor had heard it all before. He reminded himself that in the end, the Emperor died a very gruesome and painful death. He had never considered it justified, until right now. Because the man who killed Clara Oswald deserved to rot in hell for eternity.

The sonic had the source and the Doctor was moving, picking his way through the crowds, not stopping, not even to straighten his askew bow tie. He thundered along, nothing in the entire world could stop him, he was close. And then the Emperor raised his hand and they dropped her. He let out a bloodcurdling roar, kicking open the door to the warehouse where they were. Of course the Emperor wasn't there, but that was where the executions were taking place. The guards were aiming their guns at him, but this was the 36th Century, their guns were all robotic. All susceptible to sonic technology. His sonic whizzed left and right and guns backfired and exploded across the warehouse. He couldn't reach the platform that they had been dropped from, but he could see Clara. As he arrived, she was pounding on the glass, desperate to break it. Her hands went to her throat and the Doctor could see the lights leave her eyes as he ran towards her. He soniced, the glass cracking and splintering. Clara went limp and the Doctor kicked the glass. It shattered around him, showering him in water and broken glass, cutting at his skin, ripping his arms apart. He barely felt it, the blood and water mixing around him. None of it mattered but Clara. She was lifeless and as he pressed down on her cold, grey body, he knew he was already too late. There was no pulse, no breath, no signs of life. He soniced her, but her brain had already shut down. He had been too late. The Doctor howled, clutching Clara's lifeless corpse. The guards were approaching from all sides, those that had avoided being injured by their misfiring weapons. The Doctor kissed Clara's forehead and stood, the fury of a Time Lord about to be fully unleashed. But before he could, they stopped. It was as if they were going to let him go.

"We've all lost people in this war," one of them said. "But we still have to execute you Sir, I'm very sorry."

"So am I," the Doctor muttered. He soniced the lights and the warehouse fell into pitch black. When the lights came back up he was already gone, sobbing as he blundered back to the TARDIS. He crashed inside, screaming in desperation. He threw his jacket to the ground and wrenched off his bow tie, before collapsing to his knees in the TARDIS, weeping. At that point, there was a knock at the door. A small knock. A familiar knock. He frowned. The doors crashed open and Clara Oswald stumbled inside, shutting the doors behind her.

"You were not just about to leave me behind!" she was raging, when she saw him lying on the TARDIS floor and rushed over, concern written all over her face. "Doctor, what's wrong? What happened?"

"You…you died…" he breathed. "I just saw you die. You were captured."

Clara shook her head. "I stayed low, kept my head down once we got separated. Waited until the craziness was over and picked my way back to the TARDIS. Knew you'd be here sooner or later. I didn't die."

"Must have been…an echo," he breathed. "She wasn't wearing any clothes, so no wonder I didn't realise…but she was an identical one. Same hair and everything."

"Come here," Clara pulled him into a hug, one to reassure him that she was in fact there and that she was in fact alive. "It wasn't me. It wasn't me. I promise. I'm here."

And she held him until he was able to stop sobbing.


	113. The Grand Party

***Hello troops, the first of what I hope will be quite a few prompts today! Plus a new Oswin chapter soon. Anyway, this one came in over on tumblr, asking for a Lazarus Experiment style party, where Souffez argue about what they are going as, friends, married etc. Anyway, I hope you guys really like it, there's plenty of cute Whouffle to come, including sleeping Clara, some looking after an ill Clara and some dancing. Back soon. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was suspicious. Wealthy, powerful people didn't just throw massive parties to unveil their warped experiments. There had to be something else behind it. Probably something alien. Either way, he wanted to be there to investigate. He sat, staring at the television in Clara's front room, frowning at it, desperate to try and determine what was going on. What did this Elliot Travis have to hide?<p>

"You've been looking at that news report for over twenty minutes now," Clara chuckled. "Do you not have anything better to be doing? Like taking me somewhere?"

"Yes," the Doctor grinned, standing up and crossing the room to kiss Clara on the cheek. "That is exactly what I'm going to do. I am going to take you somewhere. Dress up nicely, it's going to be fancy."

Clara's face fell. "We're going to the fancy party to investigate aren't we?"

"Absolutely, now hurry up. Off you pop, put on a dress that will have the investors looking for their jaws. I'll need them distracted while we snoop around."

"That's what I am to you?" Clara crossed her arms. "Eye-candy?"

"No!" he insisted. "That's what you are to them and they underestimate you at their own peril. You are incredible Clara Oswald." She blushed at that and nodded. "Now, change, go, I'll meet you in the TARDIS."

He whistled cheerfully as he changed into his tux, flipping his hair into exactly the right style. He checked out his reflection. He still had it. "Still got it Doctor," he muttered. He returned to the console room and checked his watch. Surely Clara wouldn't be long. He stomped his foot childishly and then he heard the sounds of a key in the lock and the TARDIS door opened, as Clara Oswald stepped inside, a meek smile on her face. The Doctor's jaw dropped. She was wearing a silver dress, strapless and low cut, clinging to her breasts for dear life. It stopped at her knees and hung there invitingly. Her hair was wavy and bouncy and her makeup perfect, her eyeliner fierce. She looked absolutely incredible.

"You okay Chin?" she asked. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Fine, fine, yes, refulgent!" he grinned, trying to regain his composure. "That's the look I was going for Closwald, knocking the socks off of billionaire playboys. They will not know what hit them. So cover story, I'm a wealthy physicist and you're my wife, a teacher."

"I am a teacher," Clara rolled her eyes. "Why do we have to be a married couple? We're always a married couple. One of these days I think you'll pluck up the courage and just propose, that way we won't have to pretend. Oh for God's sake Doctor, I'm joking."

He had gone very pale at the suggestion. Of course Clara was very beautiful and funny and wonderful, but that didn't mean that he liked her in that way, did he? He stumbled over his words for just a moment and then he managed to regain his coolness.

"Yes, yes, fine!" he shook his head dismissively. "We'll be whatever you want us to be. You can define the social parameters. Friends, lovers, married, doesn't matter to me," he lied. He felt a lot more comfortable being married to Clara, it meant that nobody tried anything. She was giving him a funny look, one that he didn't like the look of. It meant that she had an idea, probably an evil one.

The TARDIS touched down and they stepped out, just outside the banquet hall. There was a man on the door checking tickets and of course, the Doctor just flashed his psychic paper to get them inside. They were in a big hall, champagne and hors d'oeuvres were being served by fancy waiters. Clara winked at one as she took a glass. The Doctor felt his stomach turn.

"Hello there!" Travis himself was introducing himself to her. Clara was blushing. Travis wasn't that rich and handsome was he? Probably, the Doctor reckoned. "Elliot Travis."

"Clara Oswald," she replied. "I'm from Oxford University Physics Department, lot of money there. This is my assistant. Just call him the Doctor, everyone does. He likes to think it makes him special, bless."

The Doctor was fuming. Assistant? How dare she? Did she forget who flew the TARDIS in this relationship? Friendship? Companionship? What was she to him anyway? He certainly wasn't' her assistant.

"Would you like a sneak peek at what I have planned for tonight, Clara Oswald?" he asked, his voice purring and the way he said Clara's name made the Doctor want to punch him. "Your assistant would have to wait out here of course, but I'm sure you'd find it fascinating."

"I'd love to," Clara said with a smile, shooting the Doctor a triumphant look. He glared back at her, grabbing a glass of champagne and stuffing his face with pigs in blankets. He was getting some odd looks, so he just glared at anyone who looked at him. Assistant indeed. Humph. Then he heard the screaming, coming from backstage. Clara. His Clara. He was running, sonic out, and he jumped into action, pushing his way through to her.

"Clara?!" he yelled as he tumbled into the backstage area where she had been taken by Travis. Travis was unconscious, Clara was standing over him, breathing heavily, holding a sandbag.

"Clara what is it?" he panted, rushing to hug her.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I mean, he's not an evil alien or anything, but he didn't bring me back here to show me his device, so much as…show me…his…device."

"I don't follow."

"His penis Doctor."

"Oh! But why would he show you his…oh!"

"I think we'd better leave."

"Yes I think we better had."

At least, looking back on it, she didn't actually sleep with Travis. That was a good sign right?

"Next time," Clara informed him, as they slipped back into the TARDIS. "We're just going to go as a married couple."

Yep, definitely a good sign.


	114. Clara Falls Asleep In The Library

***Hey guys, meant to have this one up earlier but shit happened, I have sociable flatmates, what can you do? XD Anyway, this is a fluffy one, there's a couple more fluffy ones coming after this. So, Clara falls asleep whilst reading and the Doctor puts her to bed. I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>Clara Oswald was an English teacher. That meant a great many things. It meant that every so often, she would spend over a week in the TARDIS, doing her lesson plans for the next few months and marking tons of essays, so she could spend the next month or so doing absolutely no work and loving every second of it. It meant that she knew almost as much about literature as the Doctor, more in some cases. It meant that she was a caring, compassionate but assertive woman. But above all, it meant that she loved books. She was a real reader and it didn't have to be adult fictions or classics. For Clara, children's books were a treasure trove of hidden gems, so many different ways or writing for age groups lower than her own, but that could still be intricate, intelligent and above all, engaging.<p>

What it meant for the Doctor, was that when he walked past Clara's bedroom one night, in the middle of the night, and she was nowhere to be seen, he suspected immediately that he knew exactly where she would be. Sure enough, a short walk down the corridor, taking a left at the swimming pool, and he found her.

Clara was fast asleep, lying on the floor of the library, a book still in her dainty little hand. She was snoring, drool coming out of the corner of her mouth, her hair splayed around her, dark curtains against the mahogany flooring. He chuckled at the sight of her. He carefully took the book out of her hand, finding resistance as Clara was loathe to relinquish the book, even in her unconscious state and he placed it on the side. He didn't want to wake her, she was sleeping so peacefully. He bent down, gently scooping Clara up into his arms, every movement slow and tender, desperately trying not to wake her up. She shifted slightly and he realised that she was drooling on his arm and he smiled at that. She was so adorable when she was sleeping. She curled herself into his body and he couldn't help but think of her as a child, one that needed shielding from the world. He loved her. His Clara. He started walking, every step tentative, trying hard not to jolt her. He manoeuvred his way back to Clara's bedroom, holding her gently in his arms.

As he stepped into Clara's bedroom, she stirred in his arms. He froze, still as a statue, not even daring to breathe in case she woke as a result of it. Then, she was back to snoring and he sighed in relief, lowering Clara into her bed and pulling the covers over her. He slipped off her furry slippers and kissed the top of her head.

"Goodnight Clara," he muttered. "My Clara."

He was about to leave when she stirred again and he heard her mumble: "Doctor?"

"Damn," he groaned. "I woke you. I was trying really hard not to wake you."

"Can you stay?" she asked meekly. "I kinda liked listening to the sounds of your hearts beating in tandem. It was soothing."

He didn't know what to say. So he didn't say anything. He merely crossed the room and crawled into bed beside Clara, allowing her to rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around him. They were lying, intertwined in a perfect silence.

"This isn't weird is it?" she whispered.

"No," the Doctor admitted. "It actually feels perfect."

"Good," she mumbled. "Goodnight Doctor."

"Goodnight Clara."


	115. Dancing

***Hey guys! Next prompt is a dancing prompt, sent in on tumblr. Clara is chaperoning the school dance with Danny and enlists the help of a jealous Doctor to help her learn to dance. I really hope you guys like it, more fluffy Whouffle on the way soon! TPD***

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><p>If Clara didn't know better, she could have sworn that the Doctor was jealous. Ever since she had started talking about Danny, he had started grumbling and muttering under his breath. Danny was a teacher at Clara's school and they got on really well. It wasn't so much that Clara liked Danny, but they had a lot of fun together and they were good friends. But the Doctor always seemed to throw temper tantrums or strops at the mention of his name, as if Danny's mere existence was an affront to him. That was why Clara took a lot of pleasure in teasing him when he asked her the standard question.<p>

"Same time next Wednesday?" he asked cheerfully. "Just after school?"

"I can't," she replied, trying not to sound too smug. "I'm chaperoning the school dance next Wednesday. With Danny."

"Oh!" he tried not to sound annoyed, but she could read it all over his face. "Oh okay. Well I guess I'll just um, come another day. I'll see you Saturday, maybe?"

"Come over Saturday," Clara insisted. "I'd love it. I mean, I'd love to see you. Maybe Danny could meet you, we could all go for drinks?" She rolled her eyes at his face. "I'm joking sheesh. You're my little secret Chin, you know that." He nodded. "Saturday."

"Saturday!" the Doctor tried not to act affronted. "Wednesday is your date with Danny." She didn't bother to correct him, she simply shut her front door.

Saturday couldn't come quickly enough. For Clara at least. She loved the Doctor and as fun as teasing him about Danny was, she never thought of it as anything other than something she was doing to score brownie points with her boss. Watching a bunch of 16 year olds dancing was not her idea of a good night, even with Danny. So the Doctor arrived and they went off in the TARDIS.

"So what time is your date finishing?" he asked Clara. "Because I could pick you up afterwards, we can check out The Last Stargazers, it's an incredible 33rd Century play, I know you'll love it."

"Firstly, it's a dance, not a date," she corrected. "Secondly, it won't finish until late, I'll be absolutely knackered Doctor, there's no point. Why don't we go and see the Stargazers now?" As fun as teasing him was, it lost its fun when he was just going to be annoying and clingy about the whole thing. He pulled a face but nodded.

Clara went to her room to change into something a little more suitable for the play. It occurred to her as she slipped into her silver, shiny dress, that she would probably need to dance with Danny at the dance. Not that she minded, it would probably be fun, but she wasn't the best slow dancer. She would need to practice. This was how the Doctor found her, about ten minutes later, desperately trying to practice slow dancing without a partner. When he entered, snorting with laughter, she shot him a furious and despairing glare.

"Can you help me?" she sighed. "Please?"

"What, can I help you slow dance for your date with Danny?" he smirked and straightened his bow tie. "I'm sure I can be of service."

"It's not a date!" Clara huffed as he crossed the room and took her hands in his. "Can you just shut up and dance?"

That he could do. The Doctor pulled Clara in close to him, the intimacy shocking her slightly as his hand found her waist. His other hand reached into his jacket and suddenly the sonic was blaring and then music was playing. The Doctor was leading, more graceful than she had ever considered him to possibly be, as he guided her forward then back. She gasped as he twirled her, the feeling of light-headedness overtaking her. She was inches from his body and she put her hands on his chest. He stopped dancing, suddenly flushed. She leaned in and before she knew what was happening, they were kissing. It was slow, but passionate and then they broke apart, staring at each other breathlessly.

"So when you said it's not a date with Danny…"

"It's really really not," Clara giggled. Then she kissed him again. "Shall we?"

"We shall," he murmured and then they started dancing again.


	116. Clara Is Hiding

***Hey guys, another cutesie prompt for you now. Clara is hiding in her bedroom and the Doctor wants to know why, cuddly and fluffy for you. The next couple aren't as cute, but they're not exactly depressing either. I hope you like this one, please let me know what you think and keep sending them in. TPD***

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><p>Clara hadn't left her room for hours. The Doctor had been worried about his fiancée for several hours, but every time he had knocked, she had told him to go away and his attempts to sonic his way into her room had been met by sonic resistance and chair resistance. It was infuriating but if Clara wanted some privacy, then there was nothing he could do about it. So he focused his attentions on not crashing the TARDIS while she was in there. However, the day was almost over and she had been unresponsive for hours and hours. He was starting to lose patience.<p>

"Clara!" he knocked again. He didn't get a response. He was beyond worried now, so he tried his super tactic. "I have tea…and malted milk biscuits!"

"Go away!" she shouted in a voice that made the Doctor frown. "I'm sick."

"How sick?" he quizzed. "Bubonic plague, or touch of the common cold?"

There was a pause. "Bubonic plague you fuckwit, what do you think?"

"That was sarcasm wasn't it?"

Clara didn't respond to this, but the loud thud on the other side of the door implied that she had thrown a book at it. He tried not to laugh at this but knocked again gently and he heard a loud sigh before an almighty clattering and then the door opened. Clara was wearing no makeup, her hair was messy and tangled and she was wearing a blanket, wrapped around her like a giant toga. Her nose was running, her face pasty and her eyes dead.

"I'm sick!" she announced again, collapsing into him. She pronounced 'I'm' 'Ibe' She reached up for a biscuit and nibbled on it, looking at him awkwardly and smiling. "Go away."

"Not a chance," he said gently. He guided her back into her room and put her to bed, handing her a mug of freshly warm tea and putting the plate down on her bedside table. He got into bed beside her and she stared at him, before sneezing, snot exploding onto her face.

"I'm a mess!" she informed him, pronouncing it 'Ibe' again. He chuckled at that. "Leave me to die. I don't want you to catch it."

"I won't," he lied. "Time Lords can't get ill."

"Liar!" she shot back. "I can see it in your big, sad eyes. You fear me Doctor, you fear my…atchooo!" she sneezed again, spraying him with snot. She stared at him with wide eyes and then she gave a little giggle which turned into a coughing fit.

"You're really sick," the Doctor laughed. "Just lie back and relax Clara, I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"I love you," she mumbled, not able to pronounce 'love' properly but it didn't matter to him one jot. "You're the best!"

"Shh," he muttered. "Don't try and speak." He wrapped his arms around her. "I love you too," he whispered.

Clara fell asleep shortly afterwards, after her long hard day of lying in bed being sick. He still held her though, the way he always did. Their legs intertwined, their hands holding on to each other for dear life, her head resting on his shoulder, her hair tickling his neck, her heart beating near his waist. She breathed deeply, and as her chest rose and fell, it was rhythmic, hypnotic almost. The Doctor closed his own eyes and though he didn't sleep, he just lay there, embracing the feel, the connection of Clara Oswald. She was his whole world, even if it was just for that moment. And he never wanted to be anywhere else ever again.


	117. Regenerating Clara

***Hey all. Another prompt for you, this one is basically a sequel to the Time Lady Clara prompt from a few weeks back, requested by foxgodess07. Somewhere around the mid-50s in terms of chapters I think but don't take my word for it. Anyway, I hope you like it, as Clara is forced to regenerate. Keep sending them in troops! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had warned her that it would hurt a lot. Having every cell in your body rewritten tended to sting, just a little bit. She didn't doubt that. But it was like fire, like every single thing that she was, was disappearing before her eyes. The first time was always the hardest, he'd warned her. It would be almost impossible to control, but he would be there for her. And he was, standing close to her, watching as she glowed orange. She took a deep breath. The TARDIS was stationary, the Doctor stabilising her and stabilising Clara in the process. Was she still Clara? That was an odd question, but would she still be Clara Oswald afterwards? He was gazing at her, crying.<p>

"So this is what it feels like," he murmured. "For you guys. Wondering if the same person you fell in love with will come out the other side. Clara, my Clara…" he stumbled over his words. "I'm so sorry. I should have got there faster."

"Even you can't stop bullets in mid-air," she chuckled, as the glowing got louder and brighter. It was starting, she could feel it. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'll be right back."

Then she exploded. At least, that was what it felt like. She felt like she was being ripped apart from the inside out, as if her entire body was melting, was being evaporated. She was a nuclear bomb, in the process of going off, but contained to the 5 feet of body she had. Her hearts were thundering, now she realised why they needed two of them, otherwise she'd be long since dead. Her blood was pumping at an astronomical rate, she could feel it. That had taken some getting used to. Then, as quickly as it had started, it had started, it was over.

She was tall. That was the first weird thing. She was looking down at the Doctor, not up at him, her neck craning in the opposite direction. Wow, that was odd. He was staring at her.

"How do I look?" Clara asked meekly in a voice that wasn't her own. It was a nice voice though, she'd done well there. She looked down. "Good Christ, my boobs are huge!" she exclaimed. "What is this?" They were almost popping out of the bra she was wearing, which was at least two sizes too small. "Blonde as well, that's fucking weird," she added. "Ah, I like swearing as well. Fucking fuckity fuck. Prepare yourself for a lot of swearing Chin." She played with a strand of hair and then turned to facial features. "Blimey, my nose is a bit…sharp, don't you think?" He still hadn't spoken, he was just watching, jaw dropped. "Lips almost non-existent…" she pouted. "This is so fucking odd, how do you guys do this?"

"You're…different," he sounded upset.

"I'm still me," she replied instantly, protectively. "I mean, I can remember all of it and one thought, burning through me like a supernova, is that I love you. I can't think anything else, except I love you and good God have you seen my legs, they're like…I can't even. I'm so used to having stumpy legs, how the hell am I going to be able to walk like Yowsa!" she stumbled forwards, testing out her new set of legs. "I am all limb, what the hell am I?" she groaned. "Doctor? Any advice?"

"Walk it off," he said unhelpfully. "You're blonde. And tall. And…spiky."

"What do you mean spiky?" Clara shot back.

"Just a bit, angry."

"Of course I'm fucking angry, I just got shot and had to regenerate. Why the fuck aren't you perpetually pissed off post-regeneration?"

"I'm used to it," he shrugged. "Are you alright? You should go to bed, sleep and relaxation are the best ways to deal with a post-regeneration energy level crisis."

He was being odd to her, as if he wasn't quite sure how to react. This was as new to him as it was for her, and he felt alien to a concept that he had dealt with for over 1000 years.

"I don't want to sleep," Clara said, still speaking all of her thoughts aloud. "I want…you."

"Me?" he squeaked.

"I want to fuck you up against that console," she snarled, haring towards him and then doubling over in pain. "Or sleep," she gasped. "Sleep is good." She collapsed and he rushed over, putting an arm around her. "Do you still love me?" she asked, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Clara Oswald," he said, using her name tenderly. "I will always love you, as long as you're still you. Because everything changes and yet it stays the same. Who you really are never really changes. It's just a different suit you wear, a different body you keep. Everyone changes, we just change more than most. But the spikiness, the blondeness, the height. None of that matters, what matters is who you are behind all of that. And you are still Clara Oswald and you always will be. My Clara."

"I'm taller than you," she muttered.

"I know, I don't like it!" he stropped. "But there's nothing I can do about it. My Clara."

"My Doctor," she said. It sounded odd, not in her voice. But it was still true. She still loved him, she still wanted him. "I feel…fuzzy."

"You'll get that for a while, I suggest you sleep it off. When you wake up, we can get to know your new body, your new self. Together."

"I can't wait," she murmured.


	118. Teen Pregnancy

***Hey guys, long time no speak! Anyway, short but sweet teen pregnancy AU for you guys, really hope you like it, it's one of my favourite AU topics in general. As ever, thanks a lot for reading, let me know what you think and keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>As Clara pushed, she looked back on all the moments that she had considered aborting her child or wished that she had. The gut reaction, her first instinct was that she couldn't cope, that she wouldn't be able to manage it. She had barely known him back then, and he had looked so horrified when she'd said it that she'd considered aborting it then.<p>

When she first told her father. The look of pure anger and shame on his face had made her consider running to the abortion clinic there and then. He'd been so angry that she slept at John's house that night. That was the night where they really started to click, really started to connect. 9 months was a long time and in the nine months since that one night stand, John Smith and Clara Oswald had fallen in love. They had gotten through it together.

Almost every bout of morning sickness. It had left her sobbing, crying, wanting her life back more than anything. About 4 months in, John started being there almost every morning when she was sick, but until then, it had been hell.

When she told the school. Every day for three months, the judgement. The looks, the laughs. Even the teachers, judging her. They all thought the same thing: teen pregnancy. She was just another lost cause, gone off the rails.

And they weren't all wrong. Clara had spiralled hard after the death of her mother, turning to alcohol and strangers. She had known John Smith before the house party of course, but not very well, they had English together, but otherwise she didn't really speak to him. That night changed everything. They had crazy sex but hadn't been careful. Their own stupid faults. But a couple of weeks later, when Clara peed on a stick, it confirmed her worst nightmare. She was carrying John Smith's child.

And he'd been amazing. Every second since she told him, he had been absolutely incredible, telling her that he would be there for her, every step of the way. He had proved to be exactly what she needed, exactly when she needed it. And she loved him for it. They fell in love over the course of those nine months, when all the hate was flying and all they had was each other. Clara may have lost her mother, but she had found a family.

And that was why, giving birth now, John holding her hand and urging her on and her father out in the waiting room, crying his eyes out, Clara wouldn't change it for the world. She had gone through hell over the last nine months, physical, emotional, mental. She had had no idea how on God's green earth that she would make it through it, make it to the end of the line. But she had and she had come out the other side a stronger person. She felt better, stronger. She looked up at John, who was smiling. Then she was holding him. Her little boy.

"Tommy!" she breathed. "Tommy Smith."

"Tommy Oswald-Smith," John replied, taking his son out of her arms. "Hello Tommy. Our child. You did it Clara," he breathed. "You made it."

"No," she replied, taking his hand again. "We made it."


	119. Nighthawks

***So, my friend/prompting goddess/torture master xandrota gave me a couple of paintings to choose between for a prompt and I opted for this bad boy. Nighthawks, from 1942. America. Diners. Burgers. Milkshakes. I'm getting all nostalgic for 90s films now. Anyway, i hope you guys like it, and keep on sending them in! TPD***

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><p>"Are you okay?" Clara asked gently, stretching her hands across the table.<p>

"I'm fine," the Doctor replied. He didn't say anything more. He didn't need to, Clara knew her husband well enough by now to know when he didn't want to talk. "It's the US, 1942, what's there to be pissed off about?"

She didn't answer him. They were sat in an old school American diner, back when they were cool, in the mid-1940s. They had seen the Ponds. The Doctor had wanted more than anything to go over and say hi, but he couldn't. Time lines. He could see them pre-America but not in America. They looked well, they looked happy. And it killed him. Clara was there for him, Clara was always there for him, but she couldn't fix the hole in his heart, she could only do her best to fill it. And she had been doing a fantastic job. But she wasn't the Ponds. She was different and better in so many ways, but she still wasn't them. And she knew that, she would just have to take his mind off of them at times like this.

She was rubbing his hands, concentric circles over his knuckles. Their eyes met and he smiled roughly. She leaned across the table and kissed the corner of his mouth. The waitress pitched up, smiling at them.

"I've got a couple of burgers and some shakes?" she asked in a southern drawl. She placed them down in front of the Doctor and Clara, then sauntered off. Clara took a bite of her burger. It was thick and juicy, dripping fat as the Doctor lathered it in ketchup. He would normally be licking his lips, but he looked decidedly uninterested. Clara's heart sank but the burger at least was delicious. She really hoped that a few bites would cheer him up as well. He was watching her eat for a good few moments before he took a bite of his own and smiled at her.

"This is a bloody good burger," he admitted, his smile infectious and she giggled. "Thank you Clara. For the food, for being there, for being you. For everything."

"I'm your wife," she shrugged. "Being there for you when you're at your worst is what I signed on for. I wouldn't change it for the world. I'm sorry about Amy and Rory."

"So am I," he replied quietly. "I just wish I didn't have to see them. It makes things…rough."

"We can avoid America for a while," Clara said quietly, sipping her milkshake.

"And miss out on a 1940s burger from a real US diner?" he chuckled. "You really don't know me at all, do you Clara Oswald?"

"Shut up," she murmured, blushing. "I'm just glad to be here for you."

He took another bite and this time he really was enjoying himself. "Americans," he muttered. "They may be a lot of things, but they can't half grease shit up."

"I know," Clara replied. "Can't they just?"


	120. Gender Swap

***Hey there guys, tough anon prompt this one. The Doctor and Clara swap genders but not bodies. In any case, I really hope you guys liked it, I tried to gauge their differing reactions to the situation. Keep sending them in, I really hope you like them! TPD***

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><p>Well this was new. In 1000 years of time and space, the Doctor had never been a woman. And yet, here he was, waking up in a female body. He had to admit, he looked attractive. Same height, same eyes, similar build. His hair was the same colour and only slightly longer, equally flippy as before. He was effectively a female version of his usual self. Judging by the manly yelling coming from the room next to his, Clara was having a similar problem. She rushed in, screaming.<p>

"What the hell?" Clara yelped. She was a bloke, still short, with chocolate brown hair that was longer than the Doctor's normally was, almost reaching her shoulders and eyes the same colour. She was lean and muscular, with broad shoulders. She was staring at the Doctor in shock.

"You're a man," he pointed out. She looked like she was going to punch him. "I'm a woman."

"Thank you Captain Obvious!" she snapped. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Well Clara," he stroked his face. It was so smooth, it was strange. "It would appear that our bodies have been what is technically referred to as: gender-bended. No idea how, no idea why and no idea how long it'll last. Is it exciting?"

"NO!" Clara shouted. "It's really not! I miss being me! I want to be a girl again!"

"Yes, and I would love to be back to my usual self," he replied. "But seeing as how I have no idea what's going on, I propose to enjoy the time, investigating the body of the woman from the inside as it were."

"Until you get your period," she smirked evilly.

"Oh yeah, those things," he waved his hand. "I'm in a female Time Lord body. The reproductive system is very different; we got rid of periods centuries ago."

Clara looked like she was going to kill him. "So you get to explore the body of a woman, but you don't have to have periods?" She was definitely going to kill him. "Well bully for you. Find a way to fix this, now!"

"Fine!" he groaned, checking out his reflection once more and then turning to her. "Can I borrow a bra?" At this point, she grabbed the nearest thing that she could find and threw it at him.

It took the Doctor less than ten minutes to work out the problem and inform Clara of the solution.

"TARDIS had a shifting molecular problem," he informed her. "We'll have to stay in here until it's sorted, but it time shunted and somehow managed to affect our birth gender, well your birth gender, my regeneration gender. It's all very complicated and paradoxical and basically there's a hole in the universe. I won't try and explain it, but I've fixed the problem, we just need to wait for the molecules of the TARDIS to shift back into place. Shouldn't take more than a week."

"A week?" Clara exploded.

"Ten days tops."

"I swear to God, when I get my own body back, I am never having sex with you again!"

"And what about before then?" the Doctor asked with a wink.

"You wanted to explore the female body," she said icily. "Learn to pleasure yourself because I sure as hell am not going to."

Clara continued to be in a foul mood with him as the fiasco escalated. He did as Clara requested, getting to know every part of his own body and excitedly telling her his findings, whilst she insisted that she was going to murder him and leave his body floating in the time vortex. Before the week was over, they had argued more than they had ever argued before, Clara screaming at him and him getting increasingly agitated at her harsh responses. Clara shut herself in her bedroom for the last two days of it.

"What happens to bodily changes?" she asked him on the last day of being a man. "So if I give myself a haircut, or break my leg or something, does that transfer over?"

"Nope," the Doctor grinned. "We go back to the way we were before we changed bodies, why?"

"So if I break your arm, you get it magically unbroken?" Clara asked sourly.

"Yes, but you wouldn't, right?"

"I am sorely tempted."

Clara resisted whatever violent urges she had been having and when they woke up the next morning, they were back to normal. The Doctor crashed into her room, where she was lying in bed, still sulking.

"Are you alright?" he asked crazily. "We're back to normal!"

"Yes we are, and I hate you."

His face fell. "Why?"

"I'm on my period."


	121. Viva Las Vegas

***Hello troops! The wonderful ladydi1984 sent in a prompt for Las Vegas, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas etc. Then I remembered that I'd already written, way back when in Chapter 6 of Transitions, a scenario of the same magnitude. So, I decided on a little fill in the blanks exercise. So here's what really happened on that crazy night of Adipose kidnapping, tattoos and marriage... TPD***

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><p>After their detour onto a Soviet submarine, it had taken the Doctor and Clara a very long time to return to it. And then they did. And it was a fucking train wreck. They were both absolutely smashed, having just dropped off the Zocci in their own timeline. The Doctor turned to his topless girlfriend, grinning like an idiot.<p>

"You're going to need to put a dress on," he informed her. "Ooh I know, what about the one that you wore when we missed Vegas completely?"

"Sounds great!" she slurred. "Viva Las Vegas!"

"Viva Las Vegas!" he laughed, staggering slightly as he flipped a switch. "Phew, that was close, nearly blew up 1993. Aha, we've landed!"

"Landed?" she swore. "Give me a minute to change!"

She raced off, the sounds of clattering and falling filling the TARDIS as the Doctor fell over, picking himself up as Clara came crashing back into the console room. "I'm alright!" he yelled, straightening his bow tie as Clara stumbled past, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the floor with her. "I think you're drunk Clara," he giggled.

"You're drunker!"

"Well you're drunkerer!" he shot back.

"Damn you," she cursed. "That's better than drunker."

They tumbled out of the TARDIS, into Las Vegas in 1995, the mid-90s, the Doctor informed her, were the best time to go to Vegas. She paused to vomit in a bush and then they crashed into the nearest bar, ordering whiskey, because it was Vegas. He was amazed that they even got served at all, but it was Vegas.

The Doctor was staggering and slurring his words. He had had so much tequila, that he was surprised he could even think straight, let alone walk straight. About half an hour later, he was dancing on a table, doing his best Elvis impression, wig and all. Clara was laughing so hard she thought was she going to die and the whole bar was cheering him alone as he borrowed a jacket from an Elvis impersonator.

"That's my beautiful girlfriend!" he yelled, pointing at Clara. "She has my face tattooed on her back!" Clara cheered at this. "Now then, I want to go and find myself some more Elvis Impersonators, can anyone help me out here?"

They eventually left the bar, staggering down the streets of Vegas, drunken wrecks. They crashed into a small chapel, where an Elvis impersonator was giving services. The Doctor cheered and snogged Clara, saying words he didn't quite understand. She tasted like vomit and booze, but he didn't care. He loved her. His Clara.

"I now pronounce you man and wife!" Elvis said, handing the Doctor a certificate which he shoved into his back pocket.

"What did he say?" Clara asked as she leaned against him, preparing to vomit again.

"He said that you're the most beautiful pigeon in the entire universe!" the Doctor slurred. "Oh wait, that was me. Girl. The most beautiful girl, not a pigeon."

"Good," Clara said, as she hurled into another bush. "I'm kinda sleepy, can we call it a night?"

"Sure!" the Doctor grinned. "Vegas is awesome, we should come here more often. We should gamble, gambling is fun. I could be the greatest gambler of all time. They would call me The Gambler. Yes call me that from now on, not the Doctor, but the Gambler."

"You're the Rambler!" she shot back, snorting with laughter at her own joke. "Get it? Rambler?"

She was still laughing as they crashed into the TARDIS, both of them laughing at their own terrible jokes. The Doctor flipped the levers and switches, crashing onto the wrong ones and quickly resurrecting the situation.

"Phew, almost blew up Sweden!" he laughed. "Close one."

The TARDIS landed with an almighty thump and they stumbled back into Clara's apartment. The Adipose were still on the sofa and the Doctor snorted at them. "Ha, Adipose. Clara, we forgot to take the Adipose home. Ah well, they're cute, they can stay. That's how I make all my decisions, it's one I made with you."

"Funny," Clara muttered. "I made the same one."

Then she vomited on him.


	122. Liverpool FC

***Hello troops, another long day of prompting and the like ahead, so here's the first of the day. Sent in anon on tumblr, this is one of my favourite prompts. Clara and the Doctor go to a Liverpool FC match and chaos ensues. Football, Whouffle, my two favourite things, all in one go. I really hope you guys like it :) And keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was taking her to a football match. A football match of all places. He'd always had a soft spot for the game and he would tell anyone who listened how good he was at it. Unfortunately for Clara, anyone who listened always meant her. Clara wasn't sure why he was dragging her to it anyway, but he insisted it would be worthwhile. They arrived at the ground early, around noon, for a 2:05pm kick off. The Doctor took a whiff of burgers, being cooked outside the ground.<p>

"Smell that Clara," he grinned. "It's the smell of a golden era about to arise."

"It's the smell of greasy burgers and hotdogs," Clara informed him. He frowned at her and thrust the red football jersey at her again, almost begging her to put it on. Clara sighed, removed her cardigan and pulled the top over her clothes. The Doctor was still wearing a jacket, but he was wearing a matching shirt underneath. "I don't get it, why are we here?"

"April 27th, 2014," the Doctor began before Clara cut him off.

"Yes I'm aware of the date, I do have a calendar you know," she rolled her eyes.

"Anyway!" the Doctor glared. "April 27th, 2014!" Clara sighed. "Liverpool take on Chelsea at Anfield with the Blues 1 point clear in the title race. Everyone thought it might finally be Liverpool's year after over 20 years of hurt…"

"Yes, Liverpool have been awful for years, but they won't win it this year," Clara scoffed. Then she frowned. "Will they?"

"2-0 down at half-time," the Doctor whispered, so that nobody could hear his predictions. "And Brendan Rodgers produces one of the greatest tactical master classes this planet has ever witnessed. Liverpool win 3-2, go on to secure the league title and so begins the second golden era of Liverpool Football Club. This is and will be defined as the game that changes everything, the match where Liverpool and Rodgers create one of the greatest sporting displays and use that to completely rewrite their own history, isn't it incredible?"

"If you say so," Clara replied sceptically. "But where's the fun in watching a game if you know the final score?"

"Why did you make me watch Titanic?" he shot back. "We both knew how that was going to end."

Clara had no answer to that. He was reaching for her hand again now and they were entering the stadium. Clara did have to admit, the place was absolutely rocking, packed to the rafters with red scarves and shirts and screaming kids and men who had a glint in their eyes. It was a look that Liverpool supporters hadn't had in a long time: quantifiable hope. They had the best seats in the place, at least according to the Doctor. It was cold, slightly windy and the crowd around them were raucous. That was good, the Doctor claimed, all the better to soak in the atmosphere.

When kick off grew nearer, Clara found herself with butterflies. She hadn't even realised that it had been happening but as the crowd grew increasingly agitated around her, she had absorbed some of their passion, their nerve. And she suspected that even if the Doctor was right about what was going to happen, she still had no control over the bundle of frayed nerve endings that she was about to become. Beside her, the Doctor was giddy, like a small child, unable to sit still. As the home side trained on the pitch, there were cheers erupting like a Mexican wave across Anfield. And when the teams stepped out for kick off, the place exploded. A cacophony of noise shattering Clara's eardrums as the two team captains shook hands, Clara could almost see the look of determination in Steven Gerrard's eyes. This was a man who had been dreaming of today for his entire life. He had given everything he could give to Liverpool and now he was finally going to get what he deserved. A league title.

As the Doctor had predicted, things started badly for the home side. Clara almost screamed out loud when Chelsea went 1-0 up in the 12th minute and did when they made it 2 in the 34th. Around her, the crowd was shell-shocked. Stunned. Like they couldn't quite believe what they were seeing. They were seeing all of their hopes and dreams being crushed from underneath them. There were grown men in floods of tears, anguish on the look of every one she could see and she felt their pain. Her heart was thundering, she could hear it giving in to the pressure. She clutched at the Doctor and he smiled back at her, as reassuring as he could be. The half time whistle couldn't come quick enough. Liverpool were on the ropes, clinging on for dear life as Chelsea passed circles around them, just biding their time, waiting for the killer blow.

And then, something incredible happened. A lone fan, he couldn't have been much older than Clara, stood up. And he defiantly started singing You'll Never Walk Alone. Clara knew enough about football to know what he was doing. It was a rallying cry. A show of support for a side that looked like it was about to be swept aside and left by the wayside of history. Not anymore. One man became two, two men became three and suddenly Clara herself was on her feet, bellowing out the song at the top of her lungs, her heart skipping a beat and sending shudders down her spine.

If the team needed someone to rally them, then they had over 40,000 people, all roaring in unison, the Kop united. And then it started. Talismanic striker Luis Suarez made something happen, beating 2 players and cutting inside to thunder the ball in. 2-1.

It stayed like that for a while, the minutes ticking away until there were less than 10 to play. But Liverpool were still playing and the ground was still cheering. Never losing faith. And then, they were rewarded. Suarez again, wriggling, squirming and from an almost impossible angle, curling to perfection. Anfield went crazy, people jumping into each other's arms, screeching, howling. Clara clung to the Doctor like there was no tomorrow, her throat stinging from cheering so much. He was laughing now and they shared a look.

"This is going to happen isn't it?" she whispered and she could see everyone else around her thinking it too. As the seconds ran down, Chelsea were scrambling for the draw that would keep them top with only two games left to play. But Liverpool wanted it more, hungrier, faster, sharper, with the support of 40,000 Kopites behind them.

And then, with seconds left, the ball bounced once, right in front of Gerrard, the captain, a good 25/30 yards from goal. He would have been mad to try it. What was madder was that every single home supporter was telling him, imploring him to try it. Gerrard put his right foot through the ball and it dipped, arrowing like an unstoppable rocket. Clara stopped breathing and for a moment, Anfield held its collective breath as they could all see what was about to happen, but too terrified to admit it until it did. The ball hit the back of the net. And Clara felt her eardrums burst. The roar was so animalistic, so deafening, that her ears were still ringing as she threw herself onto the Doctor, snogging him passionately as he chuckled. The same men who were sobbing like babies at half time had broken down and they were sobbing again now. Clara couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. It was incredible, it was unbelievable, it was…

"So much better than Titanic," she breathed as they managed to escape the insanity of flesh and red that was the stadium. They were strolling back to the TARDIS, but Clara was all energy and nerve and bouncing off the walls. "Can we go again?" she asked frantically. "Like now? Another big game? Please?"

The Doctor smirked at her. "How does Istanbul, 2005 take your fancy?"

Clara shrugged slightly confused.

"Oh Clara Oswald," he chuckled. "You are in for a treat. Prepare yourself for the best European Cup Final in history…"


	123. Stillborn

***Hey troops. As the title suggests, this one isn't exactly cheery. Clara reveals to the Doctor that she was pregnant as a teenager and that the child didn't survive. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it nevertheless and there's some cute Allonswin coming your way soon to make up for it! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was whistling cheerfully as he was walking down the TARDIS corridors. It had been a long, hard day of TARDISing with the lovely Miss Oswald. They had been to Santa Fe, the planet of the Octopi and stopped off for cocktails on the Moon, something that they had been meaning to do for a long time. He was sure Clara was asleep by now, but he decided to check in on her anyway. He knocked gently and when there was no reply, he was about to walk away when he heard something that snapped him to attention. It was a sob. He froze. Then, another one. It was a small sound, barely articulate, and it meant that Clara was doing her best to contain it, trying not to show her real feelings. But she was definitely crying. The Doctor weighed up his options. A large part of him thought that it would be best to leave Clara alone. After all, she clearly didn't want him to hear her weeping, or she wouldn't have tried so hard to hide it. But at the same time, it bugged him incessantly. He hated the thought, the idea that his Clara was unhappy, for whatever reason. He rapped lightly on the door, wincing slightly as Clara went deathly silent. He waited a moment and then knocked again.<p>

"What do you want?" Clara was trying to sound normal but she was failing miserably.

"I just wanted to talk to you?" he tried. "I mean you're crying and you're my…friend and I just wanted to…I dunno be there for you and stuff."

There was a long pause and then Clara sighed and the Doctor heard the door unlock. He slipped inside. Clara was sat cross-legged on her bed, wiping tears from her eyes. She was wearing a loose pink tank top and jogging bottoms, the smile she shot the Doctor somewhat less than fully-hearted. She was holding something in her hand and when he got closer, the Doctor realised that it was a pregnancy test. He straightened his bow tie and sat himself down beside her, his hearts pumping in his ears.

"So," he murmured. "You're…"

"No!" Clara started suddenly, showing him the test to indicate the negative result. "Sorry, I should have talked to you about this sooner. It's just, I went back to Danny's a few weeks ago, things got heated…"

"Clara," the Doctor cut her off. "You uh, you know I'm here for you, but the details of you and Danny's…frolicking," he shuddered. "Are uh, not really my area of expertise." He hated the thought of her sleeping with anyone. He didn't quite know why, but it made his hearts burn.

"Sorry," she blushed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Anyway, that's not why I'm upset," she said quietly. "It's just a reminder…"

"A reminder of what?" he asked gently, his arm around her now so he could pull her in close to him. Her head was now resting on his shoulder, her snivels muffled by his jacket sleeve.

"A reminder of the last time that I was sat in this position," she murmured, her voice shaky but he could understand her well enough. "I was 16," she started and the Doctor's eyebrows arched. "It was right after my mum died. I had been pretty fucked up by it," she admitted. "You saw me crying by the graveside. You didn't see what happened afterwards, the drinking, the…frolicking," she managed to smile up at him at that and his lips twitched in return. "So anyway, I'd made a mess of my life, I was 16 and I was staring at this pregnancy test, willing it to be negative."

"And presumably it was," the Doctor smiled at her. "I don't see any kids running around."

Clara's face plummeted and she started to cry again. The Doctor frowned. "It was positive," she said, almost a whisper. The Doctor's hearts turned to ice. "And I decided to keep her."

"Her?" the Doctor's voice broke as his soul bled for Clara.

"My little girl," Clara sobbed. "I decided that the only way to do justice to my mother was to be the best mother that I could be. So I loved the crap out of that foetus, I did everything that I could to set up the perfect life for it, regardless of what that meant for me. And then, things went wrong."

"What happened?" the Doctor almost didn't want to hear it, but he had to now. He'd come so far. Clara bawled again and this time the words came out in fits and starts.

"I…I don't know," she was in pieces. "One day…I just…woke up…and felt terrible…like my insides were bursting…I thought I was going into labour and…I went to the hospital…but the baby…my baby…she…"

The Doctor couldn't hear anymore. Didn't need to hear anymore. He held Clara so tightly that he feared he would snap her as she sobbed into his jacket, horrible wailing noises leaving her as the Doctor allowed his own tears to start falling on her behalf. Clara had been pregnant once. It was a shock to the system.

"She died before I could give birth to her," Clara managed eventually. "I still had to give birth, but she was already dead. My baby girl. And I never found out why. I mean, everything's different now but…"

"But you still have the memories," the Doctor said quietly, understandingly. "I know what that's like. Clara, I am so…"

"Don't," Clara sniffed and looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot. "It's got nothing to do with you, it wasn't your fault," she sighed. "It's just one of those things in the world, another fucked up thing that even you can't fix. And I wouldn't change it. It made me who I am today, a better person, a stronger person."

"Oh Clara," he sighed. "My Clara."

"My Doctor," she replied in a voice so low he had to strain to hear it. She kissed his cheek. "Would you lie with me for a while?" she asked, blushing again. "I don't feel like sleeping alone tonight."

"Of course," he didn't even need to think about it. Of course he would be there for her. Every single time she needed him. Even when she didn't realise that she did.


	124. Cheering Up Ten

***Hello troops! I hope you guys like this prompt, it's an Allonswin one. So the Tenth Doctor is about to head to his death and he knows it as well. He's desperate and alone and at his lowest ebb. Will an accidental visit from Clara Oswald be the tonic he needs? Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had got them lost again. He kept insisting that he remembered this place, but it seemed like he didn't. They were in a council estate of some sort, and the Doctor had parked the TARDIS somewhere nearby but he couldn't remember where. It took them ages to find it and Clara had to admit that it wasn't where she remembered him leaving it either. She had a very odd feeling running down her back as they examined the outside of the TARDIS, Clara frowning and the Doctor pulling a face.<p>

"Does she look dirtier to you?" he grumbled. Clara shrugged. It looked a different shade of blue to her, but then it had been a long day and they'd been chasing alien robots through the back streets of London for hours. To her, as long as the TARDIS still had a hot shower and her comfy bedroom inside, then she didn't really care about the shade of blue it was.

"Can we just go inside now?" she asked, agitated. He looked at her, surprised at her tone and she rolled her eyes, before clicking her fingers. The doors sprang open and Clara stepped inside, the Doctor right behind her. They immediately realised their mistake as they entered the grungy, glowing TARDIS that Clara vaguely recognised.

"But this is the TARDIS of…"

"Oi!" the Tenth Doctor stuck his head around the console to glare furiously at them. "Who the hell are you, how the hell did you get into my TARDIS?"

"We're…" Clara glanced at her Doctor, but the other Doctor was approaching them. He had only eyes for Clara, looking her up and down. "I'm Clara. Clara Oswald. This is…"

"Oh I can tell who this is," he snarled. "And you're not possible. Because I'm going to die."

Her Doctor stepped back as if he'd been slapped. Clara tried to stand between the two Doctors and the Tenth Doctor smiled suddenly at her, a weary smile, the smile of a dead man. "So Clara Oswald, how on earth did I snag a woman of such beauty? Or will snag such a woman?"

"Oh you know," Clara blushed. "Your usual level of arrogance, charm and saving my life."

He was so different to the way she remembered him. He had been full of life, his hair incredible, his suit sharp. But whilst his hair was still incredible and his suit still sharp, he looked somehow older, more weary. Like a man on his last legs. His smile failed to reach his eyes and despite the fact that Clara found him stupidly attractive, she also felt pangs of sympathy for him. He was a dead man walking. Or at least it felt like that.

"So I don't die then?" he frowned. "That's good. But I won't remember meeting you, so I'll carry on. He will knock four times. And I'll think that that's my death. Maybe it still is, maybe you're just here to fool with me."

"Nope, not fooling, not dead, won't remember," her Doctor said quickly. "Apologies, time lines, spoilers, yadda yadda, Clara we need to go."

"No," Clara said suddenly and they both looked at her. "He won't remember this anyway right, so what harm does it do?"

Neither of them had a satisfactory answer but both mumbled something about collapsing time streams and the end of the universe. She glared at them and they both shut up. The Tenth Doctor was giving her the strangest look.

"So I regenerate then?" he said glumly and Clara nodded. Her Doctor was stalking over to the other side of the TARDIS, muttering under his breath. "Yay," he sounded so pessimistic, so distraught that it stung Clara. "Another new body, more pain and suffering. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better if I did just die, you know what I mean?"

"No," Clara whispered and he looked at her, a look of shock on his face. "No I don't understand. You're the Doctor. You're…you're my Doctor," she added, shaking slightly. "You might not be perfect and you might not always be happy, but you are the best person I've ever met. And you care, you always care. You protect people, you save lives. Without you, without the Doctor, I think everyone in the universe is a lot worse off. And besides, you might not think you have much now, but look at what you're getting. Me." She shrugged modestly, hoping that whatever he thought of her, it would be enough to snap him out of whatever trance he was in.

"I won't remember this though," he said sadly. "I won't remember you."

"You don't need to remember me," Clara smiled. "I'm here now. I'm trying to cheer you up now."

And then he was kissing her. She heard her Doctor squeaking in the background as her lips met his, his hands meshing in her hair, their tongues dancing like firecrackers. This was different to kissing her Doctor, more intense and fiery and electrifying. She had shivers rolling down her spine and then the kiss broke and he was still staring at her.

"I wish I could remember that," he admitted and Clara giggled. Her Doctor was storming over now, clearly jealous, his eyes alight.

"Well nice to see you, good luck against the Master, toodloo, thanks for not remembering!" he snapped as he dragged Clara out of the TARDIS with him. As soon as they were outside, her Doctor breathed a sigh of relief and Clara raised an eyebrow at him.

"Jealous?" she shot.

"No!" the Doctor retorted, too quickly. "How could I be jealous of myself? That would be ludicrous."

"You are ludicrous," Clara pointed out and then she kissed him. The kiss was more soothing, more relaxed, more in tune. It felt like home. It felt like the Doctor. Kissing his predecessor had been crazy, but this felt pure, this felt real. "I love you," Clara murmured.

"I love you too."


	125. Grumpy Cat

***Hello all! Souffaldi prompt for you now! Clara compares 12 to Grumpy Cat and he gets somewhat annoyed by her teasing. Some cute stuff, just wanted to try and assess their new relationship (and I am super excited for Souffaldi with all the pics and stuff coming out of the filming). Enjoy and as ever, keep on sending them in! TPD***

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><p>"I've figured it out!" Clara shouted as she ran down the steps of the TARDIS into the console room. The Doctor looked round to frown at her and she wrapped a lazy arm around him, ruffling his grey hair as he glared.<p>

"Could you not do that?" he asked, flustered. "It's really very annoying."

"I know, why do you think I'm still doing it?" Clara laughed. "So, aren't you going to ask me what I've figured out?"

There was a smile playing in the Doctor's lips, Clara could see it. He didn't want to take the bait, but at the same time, he was amused, interested. She watched his internal struggle, which she knew full well would end up only going one way as he asked her: "What have you figured out?"

Clara smirked. "I figured out what you remind me of?"

The Doctor's face fell. He mumbled something under his breath and strode across the TARDIS. Clara followed him, giggling at the fact that his actions were unwittingly contributing to her appropriation of the Time Lord.

"Clara, regeneration is a serious business!" he told her. "It's about rescuing us from certain death, not so that you can make jokes at the expense of my new body…or, or personality."

"You are Grumpy Cat," Clara giggled, earning her yet another fierce look that had her in stitches. "There! There it is!"

"There what is?" the Doctor snapped, throwing his hands up in the air as Clara lost control of her body, she was laughing so hard she was shaking and he kept glaring at her, giving her that same face that was perpetuating her loss of bodily control. "What is a Grumpy Cat? Are you saying I'm some sort of, of feline?"

It took Clara almost a minute before she was calm enough to speak, taking deep breaths to calm herself. The Doctor was still staring at her, hands on hips, demanding an explanation.

"Grumpy Cat," Clara explained. "Is a cat with a very grumpy face. And you are the grumpiest thing ever. That agitated, glaring face you pull, it is just so Grumpy Cat, and oh God it's hilarious. I can never un-see this."

The Doctor was clearly getting more and more frustrated by every word that Clara said. He threw his hands in the air and stalked across the console, until they landed with a thud and he looked at her, arms crossed.

"Are you sending me home?" Clara asked, amusement still tickling the corners of her mouth. "Are you being a stroppy child on me again?"

"What do you mean stroppy child?!" he yelled. "Again?"

"Wow, this new incarnation needs chill pills," Clara muttered, shaking her head. "Never mind Doctor, I'm going."

She had almost reached the door when she heard him sigh. She paused, waiting for the inevitable call of her name.

"Clara!" he shouted and she swivelled. "I'm sorry for being so grumpy."

She felt guilty for teasing him. The truth was, they were both still getting to know his new body, his new mind and neither of them were really certain what was going on. She walked towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for teasing you," she said, leaning up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He looked back at her, all flustered and unsure of himself. "But you so are grumpy, you know that?" He smiled and nodded. "Google it!" she said to him, as she made back for the door.

"Or you could stay?" he tried and she frowned slightly before turning back to him. "On the TARDIS, tonight I mean, if you wanted?"

"I would like that," Clara admitted. She wasn't sure of this new Doctor yet, but she was sure of one thing, she wanted to stay close to him. "Thank you Grumpy Cat."


	126. Christmas With The Oswalds

***Hey guys, this is another tumblr prompt. The Doctor doesn't regenerate at Trenzalore and he and Clara go back for Christmas dinner and have to engage in an awkward conversation about the possibility of kids. I really hope you guys like it! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor almost wished that he'd died on Trenzalore. That might have been preferable to this. Clara making awkward jokes, her father shooting devil glares at the Doctor, who he still thought was Swedish, the uncomfortable looks from Linda and the undressing looks from Clara's grandmother. He was still annoyed about having to 'pretend' to be Clara's boyfriend, when really he'd have been perfectly happy just to be her boyfriend for real. Still, it was the least he could do. Clara had saved his life on Trenzalore, got him off of that planet in one piece. He hadn't even had to regenerate. It was nothing short of a miracle. He caught Clara's eye across the table and she shot him a small smile, before disappearing back into her turkey. The Doctor felt an arm on him and it was Clara's gran again. He politely shrugged her off and moved closer to Clara, his hand going to her knee under the table. She jumped slightly but then blushed at him. He retracted the hand but she looked disappointed at that.<p>

"So Clara," her gran was saying, still looking at the Doctor, who straightened his bow tie and tried to avoid Dave's eye. "When are you and this handsome thing here going to be giving great-grandchildren?"

Clara choked on her turkey. The Doctor was on his feet in an instant, rushing across the table to pat her back. He had forgotten about the boyfriend thing, he just did it on instinct. "Clara!" he yelled. "Are you okay?"

"Fine!" Clara reassured him, patting his arm lovingly as she managed to recover. "I'm fine Doctor, thanks." She looked up at him with a dazzling smile. "Umm we haven't really talked about kids, have we Doctor?"

"Nope," he laughed as he sat back down awkwardly, his face burning. "Not talked about kids once, not even crossed our minds, isn't that right dear?"

"But you must both want kids?" Linda popped up. "I mean, it's obvious from the way you look at each other that you're madly in love…" Their faces met and the Doctor had to look away from her. She said she'd fancied him, but that wasn't the same thing. "And it can only be a matter of time until we're seeing mini-Claras running around."

The Doctor felt embarrassment run through him. If Clara wanted kids, she would never be able to have them with him. Not that that mattered, her father and grandma wouldn't care about that anyway. She'd find someone human. He was just the placemat, the filler because she'd invented a boyfriend. He could get away with murder.

"I mean, we're really not at that stage of the relationship…" Clara tried, looking to the Doctor for help. He shrugged. "We've only been dating…

"Six months."

"Nine months."

They said it at the same time. Clara glared at the Doctor to shut him up and he did so.

"I mean," Clara laughed nervously. "We've only known each other 9 months, but it took the idiot three months to ask me out."

"I asked you to come with me on the day we first met!" the Doctor replied, confused. Clara aimed a kick at him under the table, hitting Linda instead who yelped and Dave raised an eyebrow at his daughter. Clara laughed awkwardly, shooting her death stare at the Doctor.

"I should have left you on Trenzalore!" she hissed under her breath.

"And I really appreciate that you didn't," the Doctor shot back. "My Clara."

She was blushing again now and an awkward silence had fallen across the table as Linda and Dave glared at Clara, her gran was still eyeing up the Doctor, the Doctor was staring at Clara and Clara was only interested in the plate of food in front of her. This was quickly turning into a disaster of a meal and the look on Clara's face told him that she'd rather he'd not come at all. Suddenly he felt really guilty and needed to try and do or save something to rescue the situation.

"I'd love kids with you Clara," he said earnestly. "Like really soon, if you want them."

Linda looked at him with a grin at this, Dave seemed to visibly stiffen and her gran cooed. Clara's head shot up to look at the Doctor so fast, he was worried she'd snap her neck. She was burning, her face red and she had the most curious look in her eyes. She smiled, a deep Clara smile and she nodded, standing to go around the table and hug him. He hugged her back. This he knew how to do. Clara. His Clara.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. "For being the best pretend boyfriend I've ever had."

"Any time Clara," he replied. "Any time."

"Same time next year?" she joked, her voice still so low that nobody else could hear them.

"Sounds like a date," the Doctor chuckled.


	127. Oswin Witnesses A Regeneration

***Hey troops. This one was sent in anon on tumblr. Asking for Oswin to witness the Doctor regenerating (based off my Oswin Oswald AU where she survives the Asylum). In any case, I tried to capture the different reactions of 11/12 and Oswin. I hope you like it and as ever, keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>Well, he was inevitably going to have had to explain it to her anyway. It was just a pain that it came so early into their time together. They were only three months into their friendship and it was going to be really tough on Oswin to both understand and appreciate the fact that he was changing. It was stupid really, he thought. One little bullet, just nicked the wrong artery and now he was buggered. Now, he was regenerating. Oswin was screaming as they collapsed into the TARDIS.<p>

"Oswin," the Doctor croaked. "It's okay, just step back."

"No," she yelled. "I won't let you die."

"Oswin," the Doctor sighed. "I have this thing. This process. It stops me dying, massive cheat death as you say. Get shot to the heart, survive. I'm doing it now, but it requires a lot of energy, so you need to step back…and…"

"And what?" Oswin's sobs had died down, replaced by relief, but there was an anger in her voice, a curiosity. "And what Chin?"

"It means that you won't be able to call me Chin anymore!" he shot back. "Sorry about that, but you'll have to find a new facial feature to affectionately denote to me."

"First of all, it's not affectionate," Oswin said shakily. "And what do you mean, new facial feature? Is your face going to change?"

"My entire body is going to change," he replied, cursing as pain shot through him and he staggered back, further away from Oswin. "Every single cell. I won't be the same man. But I'll still be the Doctor, I promise. That's the cost of cheating death."

"A new body…" Oswin took a deep breath and forced herself to smirk. "I hope it's better than the current model!"

She was joking of course, covering up her fear with jokes, but the Doctor didn't mind that. It made him feel better as well. He choked as the process took control and Oswin let out a strangled cry as he started glowing.

"It's started," the Doctor muttered.

"What gave it away?" Oswin choked. "The orange glowing or the lack of a bullet hole in your chest?"

The Doctor held back a laugh at this, worried that the sound would trigger an earlier regeneration and he wanted to spend his final moments trying to comfort Oswin.

"I'll be okay," he gasped. "But you need to look after me. This process, it takes its toll, I won't be at my best when I'm done."

"That's okay," Oswin smiled. "I'm used to stopping you from messing things up, this time will be no different."

She was putting on a brave face, but the Doctor could see how scared she was, how angry she was. He couldn't it in any longer. He regenerated, the energy flooding through him in an instant, triggering the change and then his entire body lurched forwards. He stared at the girl in front of him, the look of pure shock on her face and then he smiled. His mouth was new. Wrinkled. Old.

"Oswin?" he asked and his voice was throaty. Scottish. Bloody hell if Amelia Pond could see him now. "Oswin, are you alright?"

"Doctor?" she sounded distinctly not alright. "You're…old."

"Old?" Yes that made sense. His body felt older. And what was up with the colour of his kidneys? "Yes, older, that makes sense. Aha, no more baby face. Time to finally be, a grown up!" he grinned at her and it felt odd with his new mouth. "Oswin Oswald, you are short, you know that, very short."

"You've grown an inch," she growled back.

"And you haven't, so that's 1-0 to me," the Doctor laughed, jumping up and down, feeling his new body. Oswin was looking incredulous, but a small smile was playing on her lips. "Anything you want to say Oswald?"

"Only that you're still the Doctor," Oswin replied. "And I can still kick your skinny old arse any day of the week."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that my dear," the Doctor chuckled. "I may be older, but I feel more…sprightly. More secure. Like I actually have control of my body for once. The movements feel…deliberate, controlled."

Oswin was watching him carefully as he tested his arms and legs, nodding appreciatively. Then, he collapsed, his body spasming and he hit the floor. Oswin was by his side, looking at him in confusion.

"Like I said," the Doctor groaned. "This process. Very unstable. Need to…"

And then he spasmed again, his body rocking and he yelled in pain.

"Sleep," he gasped. "I need sleep."

"Okay, okay," Oswin took deep breaths. "Christ you've put on weight!" she groaned as she tried to lift him. "I preferred you when you were all skin and bone."

"Oi!" he shot back, his Scottish lilt coming through again. "I'll put you on your fucking backside if you don't help me out here, one of us can fly this thing and it certainly isn't you."

"Rude!" she smirked. "You're rude now. I like it."

And that was the moment when the Doctor realised that Oswin Oswald would be fine. And so would he.


	128. Makeup Sex

***Hello troops! Another day, another set of prompts and a new Oswin chapter what what?! Sorry, anyway this one is for ladydi1984, requesting a Seinfeld based prompt where Whouffle desperately try to have makeup sex after an argument but everything starts to go wrong. I really hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading and as ever, feel free to send them in on here or on tumblr TPD***

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><p>Clara knew that she couldn't stay mad at the Doctor. They had been arguing about River again. The Doctor had accidently invited her along on one of their missions and watching her flirt with her fiancé until Clara had punched River had not been a fun experience for anyone concerned. Of course, the Doctor was angry with Clara for punching River and Clara was angry with the Doctor for inviting her along. It was a lose-lose. But, she wasn't really angry any more. She hadn't expected to stay angry long. Sure enough, by the time she heard the TARDIS dematerialising outside her flat, she was over it. He hadn't meant to invite River along and he couldn't tell her the situation at hand without massive spoilers, so he'd been forced to improvise on his feet and Clara taking a pot shot at his wife had not helped the situation at all. She was already grinning when she heard his frantic knocking on her door. That was the idiot she knew and loved. She shot to the front door and sure enough, as it rattled open when she yanked it, he was on the doorstep, his smile sheepish.<p>

"I'm…sorry," he admitted. "I know how hard it must have been for you, seeing River and…"

She cut him off by stepping in, straightening his bow tie and kissing him in the same movement, their tongues dancing enflamed as he pressed closer to her and she pulled him over the threshold into her house. They were staggering backwards through the house, Clara in control, guiding him as his tweed was discarded and her dress unzipped. As they stumbled into her bedroom, her hands were on his chest and his were still tangled in her hair, their kissing only broken by the occasional gasp or moan of pleasure.

"Condoms," the Doctor murmured. "Did you remember to stock up?"

Clara swore internally. She had most decidedly forgotten to stock up on condoms. She broke their connection to shoot him an apologetic look and he rolled his eyes at this.

"Don't worry," he chuckled. "I have some on the TARDIS."

Clara sighed as he swept his jacket back on and she zipped up the back of her dress. They hurried down the stairs, both of them horny, desperate to finish what they had started. She could see that he was hard through his trousers and she had to admit that she felt desperate herself, the knot in her stomach clinging to her and her pelvis burning. She bit her lip as they tumbled down the stairs and out of the building. She let out a gasp of relief as they tumbled into the TARDIS, giggling like school children. She jumped up into the Doctor's arms and he chuckled as they kissed again.

Their kiss was so intense, he staggered back and then she pressed home the advantage, her hand going down his trousers and he shuddered, stumbling back slightly and his hand leant on the console. Then, they made their next mistake. Clara tugged harder and he gasped, his hand flailing and nudging several levers. Clara was thrown off of him as the TARDIS took off and the Doctor cursed, wrestling for control of his machine as Clara hit the ground with a crash. Groaning, she picked herself up, rubbing her head, only for her to go flying again, barely able to keep her balance second time round. The Doctor swore and then swore again as they were thrown about like ragdolls.

"Clara!" he called. "I may have accidently flown us into an asteroid field!"

"Well isn't that just Christmas?" Clara shouted back as she crashed into a railing. "Can't you get us out of it?"

"I'm working on it!" he yelled.

"Well work on it quicker!" Clara clung to the railing for dear life as the TARDIS buffeted and crashed along, until finally, it seemed to settle. "Are we out?"

"We're out!" the Doctor sighed with relief. "I've got her cruising now and we're in dead space, there's nothing out here. And even if there was, the shields are up. So we're fine."

"Well in that case," Clara smirked, sidling closer to him and pulling him into a light kiss. "I know what I want to do…"

She kissed him again, this time a real kiss, full of passion and vigour. They were falling backwards again, his jacket being pulled from his back. Her breath was hot and steamy, she wanted him inside her so badly it almost hurt. His hands raked down her back, her own scraping his chest. Suddenly, the TARDIS lurched again and Clara screamed as it almost toppled horizontal, throwing her and the Doctor to the floor and they rolled away from each other, Clara managing to grab hold of a railing. The Doctor wasn't so lucky and she heard the painful thud of him crashing to the deck below.

"Doctor?" she screamed.

"I'm okay!" she heard him moan. "But we've been hijacked. I don't know what's out there, but it's not good."

"Umm Doctor," Clara said quietly as she staggered across the TARDIS to the screens by the console. "I think I know what's out there." She stared at the image on the screen. She knew Dalek ships well enough by now. She'd been exterminated on one once before, an experience she had no intention of repeating. She pulled out her sonic and held it close to her chest. The Doctor was clambering up to join her and when he saw the worried look on her face and the way she clutched the sonic so tightly to her body, he pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. He didn't need to ask. He knew it was them. She could feel him shaking with rage.

"Plan?" she asked carefully.

"Stay here," he growled.

"Not a chance," she replied quietly. They opened the TARDIS bay doors and sure enough, they were being guarded by two Daleks, facing the other way. "How're they holding us here?" Clara whispered.

"Magnetic field of some sort," the Doctor murmured. "They know they can't break the extrapolator shielding, so they're waiting for me to go out and disable the field."

"Which you're about to do," Clara pointed out.

"Which I'm about to do," he admitted. "Got any ideas?"

"Leg it?" Clara shrugged. "Not much else."

The Doctor sighed and then stepped out of the TARDIS, Clara a step behind him. He shot her a warning glare but she merely rolled her eyes at him. There wasn't a chance in hell that she was going to let him handle this on his own. He stared at the Daleks as if some solution would appear itself. Clara heard one of them begin to turn and her breath hitched in her throat. The Doctor's face suddenly lit up and he winked at Clara before running between the two Daleks. Clara screamed as they both turned to face him.

"Exterminate!" they screeched, both firing at once and the Doctor dived to the floor, they two Daleks exploding as they shot each other. The Doctor leapt to his feet, grinning at Clara, who stormed over and slapped him, before pulling him into a huge hug.

"Never, ever do that again!" she breathed.

"Oldest trick in the book," the Doctor chuckled. "Come on, let's find the deactivator."

It took them less than twenty minutes to deactivate the force field and make it back to the TARDIS, avoiding Dalek fire as they managed to take off. Clara breathed a sigh of relief as the Doctor set the TARDIS back to floating amongst the deep space.

"Alone at last," Clara breathed. "Finally, we can…"

She didn't finish her sentence, as his lips crashed onto hers. They were stumbling through the TARDIS, lips locked, hips grinding, hands throwing off clothes left, right and centre until they were in their underwear and tumbling into the Doctor's bedroom. Clara was so hot for him and she had been waiting for this moment for hours, until suddenly his voice broke their reverie.

"Um, Clara…"

"What?" she cried. "What now?"

"Um, I may be out of condoms…"


	129. Proposal

***Hey guys, a massive handful of prompts today, almost all of them cutie-patootie. Here we go then, the Doctor wants to propose to Clara, but is incredibly nervous and awkward, I really, really hope that you like it! As ever, keep sending them in and thanks a lot for all your support. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was nervous. How could he not be? Nevertheless, he had never expected to be quite this nervous. He could barely sleep the night before, lying staring at the ceiling, Clara beside him, curling up to him tightly, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. She was peaceful and content, and yet he was so restless, unable to shift for fear of waking her, but all he wanted to do was toss and turn. How could she say yes? She wouldn't say yes to him. And yet, this was what he wanted. They'd been together now for over a year, she would be expecting one sooner and he knew that he had to provide. Oh god, what if she said no? Would that mean that the relationship was over? Would that mean that she would have to leave the TARDIS?<p>

The Doctor suddenly sat bolt upright at that thought, knocking Clara who fell back against the pillow and stirred, but didn't wake. He breathed a sigh of relief; thank goodness she was quite a heavy sleeper. He shifted her back into position and tried to relax. Clara would say yes. Of course she would. She loved him right? She said she loved him all the time, even when she thought he wasn't listening or couldn't hear her. He always heard her. This was what she wanted, he was sure of it. Wasn't it?

Clara eventually woke around noon, having stayed up very late the night before marking papers. She yawned as she sat up, running a hand through her bed hair and pecking the Doctor on the cheek as she climbed out of bed to shower. The Doctor would normally have joined her, but he was feeling way too nervous to be in such close proximity to her. She would sniff out his anxiety and lies in a heartbeat. She was going to say no, he knew it. He went to his own shower and showered quickly and then he made for the console room, changing into a navy tux when he reached there, pulling out a brand new bow tie especially for the occasion. He was terrified, and when he heard Clara calling for him, he smacked his head on the underside of the console.

"Doctor?" Clara called, poking her head from above, upside down as she smiled at him. "What're you doing down here? And why do you look so fancy?"

"I was changing," he explained. "I figured, today, we'd go somewhere fancy, what do you think?"

Clara's head disappeared and a moment later, her entire body appeared as she jumped down to join him in the bowels of the TARDIS. She crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, the Doctor's hearts beating ferociously. He couldn't handle such a small void between them, Clara pressing herself against him as she stole a kiss.

"Sounds good," she purred. "I can't wait."

"Great," he squeaked. "Go and get dressed, something nice!"

Clara frowned. She tapped his chest lightly and raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, why?"

"You're just acting weird," Clara shook her head. She was probably used to it, the Doctor reasoned as she went off to get changed. "I've got that new dress you bought me last week, I'll wear that!" she called back to him. He grinned to himself, exactly as he'd planned. He'd known that Clara would wear that dress and she would look incredible.

It was another thirty five minutes before Clara was ready to go. The Doctor was impatient but he tried not to let it show as he grew increasingly agitated. It wasn't too late to back out, he could still not propose. He could still avoid the humiliation of Clara saying no. But that was the coward's way out and the Doctor was not a coward. That was the name he had taken. Never cowardly. He landed the TARDIS and they stepped out.

It was a fancy restaurant, and it was evening. Clara rolled her eyes at him. He knew she hated it when he mixed up time zones on her, but frankly he couldn't wait until the evening. He couldn't wait another minute. He just needed to do this. He was sweating like mad. Clara was wearing the most beautiful red dress he had ever seen, her hair up in a bun, her makeup immaculate. She had never looked more incredible. He straightened his bow tie and she rolled her eyes across the table at him.

"Here," she said softly. "Let me."

She leaned in close to him, kissing the corner of his mouth as she straightened his bow tie properly. They ordered food and the Doctor could barely nibble on his steak, so shredded were his nerves. Clara was watching him carefully, as he fidgeted. He couldn't do this. She was going to say no, he knew it. He was about to start hyperventilating when Clara reached out and took his hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently. "You've been off ever since we got up, I'm worried about you." And when he saw her smile, he knew it would be okay. For about ten seconds. Then, panic set in again and he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

"I'm fine, refulgent, excellent, will you marry me? Shit, I mean…"

Clara's face had turned to shock as he fumbled with the ring, falling to his knees as he dropped it and he picked up the ring sheepishly, kneeling in front of Clara.

"Will you marry me?" he breathed again.

"Of course I will you stupid…"

She flung herself at him, pulling him into a long, passionate kiss, that never seemed to end. Then, she broke it and he placed the ring on her finger. She had lit up like a Christmas tree and the Doctor felt relief and elation churning through his stomach. Clara smiled at him and whispered in his ear: "You didn't really think I was going to say no, did you?"

He decided it was best not to answer that.


	130. Jealous of Danny

***Hey there guys. Another slightly cute, but mainly smutty prompt for you now. This was sent in on tumblr, asking for jealous/angry sex as the Doctor sees Clara and Danny together and decides to step in. Based slightly off set pics from episode 4. Anyway, I hope you like it, thanks for all your amazing support and keep on sending them in, either by review, PM or on tumblr at: whovianmachine :) TPD***

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><p>Who even was Danny Pink anyway? The Doctor had parked the TARDIS opposite the bar that Clara and Danny were sat in. He could see from here that Clara was laughing and then her hand went to Danny's knee and the Doctor let out an audible snarl. It wasn't that he was jealous, so much as that he didn't trust this Danny Pink chap. Not at all. He didn't trust anyone with the surname of a colour, it sounded like he should be from a game of Cluedo or something. And Danny? What sort of name was Danny?<p>

"Ooh look at me I'm Danny Pink and I'm on date with Clara Oswald!" the Doctor muttered, straightening his bow tie angrily. He'd show them. He stalked out of his TARDIS, slamming the door behind him and earning an unappreciative groan from his machine, which he ignored. He wasn't in the mood to mollycoddle the TARDIS. He crossed the road, checking that his quiff was in place and his jacket was buttoned up. He'd opted for the purple tweed today, Clara's favourite. When she'd told him she was going for a drink with Danny, he had decided that he'd keep an eye on her, in case this Danny person tried anything. Clara had insisted that it wasn't necessary and that he was just a nice bloke who she worked with, but the Doctor knew better. He knew Danny's type, they were only interested in one thing.

"Ah Clara," he announced his presence into the bar, throwing a lazy arm around Clara, who looked torn between shock and anger. "There is a cascade of purple light, shooting across the galaxy and you can only view it from a certain spot on the far side of the Moon, are you in?"

"Umm Clara," Danny said nervously. "Who is this?"

"Hush Pink," the Doctor interrupted before Clara had a chance to speak. "I'm talking to Closwald, can't you see that? So, Clara, cascade with me, or…" he sniffed her drink. "White wine with Danny Pink. Doesn't really compare does it?"

Clara was glaring at him now, it seemed that she had decided to go with anger rather than shock. Frankly, he was surprised she was shocked he was here. She took his arm and removed it from her shoulder, shifting closer to Danny and the Doctor frowned, he hadn't expected this.

"Danny," she said coldly. "This is the Doctor. He's my best friend. Or should I say, was my best friend, because he's going to die a very slow and painful death unless he is back in his blue box within ten seconds."

"Clara," the Doctor scoffed. "I hardly think that this is…"

"Nine."

"Clara, please…"

"Eight."

The Doctor scarpered, something about the look in Clara's eye told him that she was deadly serious. He hopped into the TARDIS and decided to pre-emptively strike by making sure that he was at Clara's apartment in time to cut off Danny Pink. He shot two hours into the future and then hurried up the steps to Clara's flat. He rapped on her door, wondering if she would be back yet. He hoped that she was. Sure enough, the door flew open and Clara glared furiously at him, her arms crossed. She was wearing a loose tank top and joggers.

"What the fuck do you want?" she snapped. "What the hell gives you the right to come to my door after the fucking stunt you pulled tonight?"

"I was just looking out for you," he shifted awkwardly. "I don't trust Danny."

"Don't give me that horse shit," she stepped out her flat to push him, a hand lingering on his chest. "You came because you couldn't stand the sight of me having fun with someone else. Despite the fact that I told you Danny and I are only friends and co-workers."

"So what if I did?" the Doctor shot back. "I like you Clara and I don't want to see blokes like Danny trying to get into your pants."

"You don't get to make those choices!" she screamed in exasperation. "I'm not your girlfriend."

"Well maybe you should be!" he yelled and they both froze.

There was a moment of calm and then they were on each other. Clara jumped into his arms and he attacked her face, their lips crashing, their teeth biting. He pressed her back and suddenly they were flying into her apartment. The Doctor kicked the door shut and then swirled to ram Clara against the door. She gasped, her hands slipping under his shirt to rake down his back. The Doctor gritted his teeth as she scratched him, hard enough to break the skin. He thrust into her again, her back colliding with the door, their lips and tongues being nipped time and again. He went to her neck now, sucking long and hard and she threw back her head. His pelvis crashed into hers again, the feeling animalistic. She removed his jacket and bow tie, pulling his shirt over his head and he slipped off her tank top.

They were still thrusting and Clara buried her head in his shoulders, tearing into him as he gasped. Her bra was removed and his hands raked down her breasts as he crashed into her again and she moaned.

"Get those trousers off!" she snarled, unzipping him. She kicked him away and dropped, both of them taking a moment to remove what remained of their clothing before Clara barrelled into him, shoving the Doctor to the hardwood floor and mounting his naked body. He gasped as she climbed on top and pressed his head back against the floor.

"You are a fucking arsehole!" she growled.

"I know!" he gasped. "I've been bad."

"Oh shut up!" Clara snorted and rolled her eyes. "I'm not playing that with you."

She pressed him into her and felt pleasure rush through her. She moaned softly as he rolled and now he was on top of her, crashing her into the floor and him again and again. She could barely contain herself as he scraped her insides. Clara's teeth were at his neck again, her hands clawing at his flesh. She growled and he gasped and they were at it like animals, until eventually he rolled off her and they lay side by side on the floor, their bodies aching, Clara feeling bruised from the door and the Doctor's back almost in shreds. They exchanged a look.

"I am so angry with you right now," Clara said, but she couldn't stop smiling.

"Well I'm not even speaking to you!" the Doctor replied with a knowing grin.


	131. Pregnant With A Time Lady

***Hello troops! Another prompt for you now, as the Doctor's Time Lord/Lady offspring is able to telepathically communicate with her and Clara shares some of her favourite memories of life with the Doctor. I hope you like it, keep sending them in and more to come. Thanks for reading! TPD***

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><p>The first time that it had happened, Clara had flipped out, screaming and running to the Doctor, hyperventilating and telling him that she was losing her mind. She had been 20 weeks pregnant and her baby was talking to her. He had chuckled and put his arm around her and informed her that it was perfectly normal. This hadn't reassured her one bit. Her twenty week old crazy Time Lord foetus was talking to her, how on Earth was she supposed to remain calm?<p>

"First of all," the Doctor said. "It's Time Lady foetus, Ellie's a girl remember?" Clara rolled her eyes at that. "Secondly, it's perfectly normal for Time Lady foetuses to develop psychic powers to communicate with the mother around this stage of development. Just respond to her, talk to her, reassure her. She's going to need all of the reassurance that she can get. She's in a hostile, alien world and she's connected to you. You're her mother. Help her understand the world she's entering."

At first, Clara had been highly sceptical to say the least. The weird psychic link with her child was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, as this primitive, alien force was inside her head, occasionally popping up to comment. The thoughts were staggered, unintelligible at times, but it was learning fast. Often, it was images rather than words, Clara would get pictorial representations or emotions that weren't her own flooding through her head. They were sharing a mind, as well as a body. She struggled at first, her level of control waning. Ellie was such an odd force, and yet she felt so intimately connected with her, it was as if Ellie was a part of herself at times.

Having the Doctor around was a Godsend. He was in her head whenever she wanted, talking to his daughter, helping to guide and control Clara's thoughts and teaching her how to communicate properly with the child growing inside her. Even when he was just talking to Clara normally, she felt more reassured, more able to control her train of thought.

"Show her some of your happiest memories," the Doctor insisted. "Show her some of our memories."

So Clara racked her brain for moments to share with her daughter. She thought about one time. They had just got engaged and the Doctor was eager to show Clara how much he cared. So he took her to the biggest ice cream shop in the universe, to buy her fifteen different flavours of ice cream. Clara had warned him she'd get fat; he'd told her that he wouldn't care if she had.

Clara also remembered her first birthday with the Doctor as her boyfriend. That had been one of the best days of her life. They had gone ice-skating, sky-diving. They'd been to Paris, to Blackpool, when her parents were still alive. He had given her the nicest dress she had ever seen and taken her to dinner at the restaurant where her father had proposed. Even looking back, Clara couldn't believe how much the Doctor had done for her that day.

She thought about their wedding, how they had fallen out of the sky in the TARDIS. That had been one hell of a day and she spared Ellie the details.

But most of all, she just thought about every day. Every single day since she had got pregnant, when they snuggled in bed together and put on films and ate junk food. How he was always there for her, every single time that Clara needed him to be. How he had never let her down.

"What're you telling her?" the Doctor asked, snuggling up to his by now very pregnant wife.

"I'm just telling her about the time you took me to see my mum for the first time," she replied quietly, snuggling back up to him. "About how I was angry at you because you took me to Plith and we saw you and River there…"

"And how you asked me why I didn't go back to see the Ponds," the Doctor paused. "And I said I didn't trust myself. But I trusted you. I thought I'd never do that again you know."

"Do what again?" she murmured.

"Take someone to see their parent. The last time I did it was a train wreck. It convinced me I couldn't exactly trust humans where family is concerned."

"What changed your mind?"

"You did," he breathed, kissing her lightly. "And you can tell Ellie I said that."

They snuggled together and then after a while, Clara felt Ellie kick again.

"She can communicate with my mind, why does she have to kick?" Clara groaned.

"She might be my daughter," the Doctor laughed. "But she's also definitely your daughter."

Clara couldn't argue with that.


	132. New New French London, Churchill, Angels

***Hey troops, this one was sent in by the ever amazing xandrota. I really hope you guys like it. The Angels. Churchill. New New French London. Whouffle. Here we go. TPD***

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><p>"New New French London, or NNFL for short," the Doctor announced as he stepped out of the TARDIS. Clara stepped out behind him, looking around nervously. The city seemed to be in one piece. She had been half worried it would be a ruin, but it turned out not to be. The buildings were tall and futuristic and Clara had to admit, the city looked incredible.<p>

"NNFL was established on the planet New England, one of the first settlements the British and French combined forces took after they left Earth in the late 38th Century. NNFL is the capital of the country New French England. The English dominated the settlement forces, so they apportioned out the planet lands by population. It was a quarter French, so the French got a quarter of the planet. NNFL is the main French populated city, but there's still more than a smattering of English here. One of the greatest cultural successes that Earth has had. So many settlements collapsed, their social structure destroyed or their people warring. But NNFL is one of the greatest success stories of Anglo-Franco settlements. The people lived in harmony for millennia."

"Sounds…" Clara looked for the right word. "Like a history lesson. And you know how much I hate history. Why are we here Doctor?"

"I wanted to show you your ancestors," he chuckled. "I've shown you so much of humanity's failings, I thought it would be nice to show you one of its great successes. You can't begrudge him that can you?"

She rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. She couldn't begrudge him that, so she shut the TARDIS door behind her and linked arms with him. He led the way through the city as they worked their way through the buildings, all white and gleaming. Neither of them noticed the statues. The Doctor guided Clara, showing her the sights. The great monument to Napoleon, the rebuilt Eiffel Tower. And as he took her to the main square, he frowned, looking around in earnest.

"What is it?" Clara asked, examining the look on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"Excuse me," the Doctor grabbed someone walking past, who smiled politely at him, looking irritated but hiding it well. "What happened to the statue of Churchill?"

The man looked terrified and stumbled away from him. "We're not supposed to talk about it," he mumbled, looking for somewhere to run to. "They don't like it."

"They?" Clara frowned. "Who's they?"

"I can't say…" the man was already running away and he'd barely made it around the corner when they heard him scream. Clara was moving but the Doctor, as ever, was two steps ahead, racing round the corner and Clara came a crashing stop behind him. His breath had hitched in his throat.

"Where is he?" Clara whispered. There was nothing in the alleyway with them, just a pair of gargoyles guarding the side entrance to a building. "Did they drag him into the building?"

"Nice thought," the Doctor muttered, his eyes wide as he stumbled back, bringing Clara with him. "But I'm afraid he's been in that building a very long time. Step back Clara and keep your eyes on those Angels."

"You mean the gargoyles?" Clara glanced at one. It had a sinister look on its face. "You're scared of a couple of stone statues."

"They're stone while you're looking at them," he replied. "The second you look away, they aren't stone anymore. And they're deadly. They're called the Weeping Angels. They're Quantum-Locked hence stone when you're looking at them, faster than you could believe when you're not. If you blink, you're dead. They displace you in time, send you back 40/50 years and leave you to live out your life so they can feed off your time energy. And we need to get out of here."

He was pulling her back, not taking his eyes off the apparently malevolent gargoyles for a moment. Clara clung to him, not quite understanding what all of the fuss was about. They were moving back into the square and Clara's breath hitched in her throat.

"Doctor," she said, terrified. "Sweetie. I love you."

"Clara?" he didn't dare look at her. "What is it?"

"The giant statue of Churchill," Clara breathed. "It's back."

"What do you mean it's…oh." The Doctor froze. "Clara, keep your eyes on that statue. Don't look away from it for a moment. If you do, we're dead."

"How do we stop it?" Clara asked desperately.

"Angels can only be stopped in a handful of ways," he informed her. "We need to make them look at each other at the same time. But it seems to me that the whole town is infected, we may already be too late…"

"I thought you said NNFL was a triumph!" Clara snapped at him, closing one eye than the other so that the Churchill statue was never out of her sights. "Not a write off."

"Yes, I thought that!" he snapped. "But time can be rewritten Clara and if this place is angel-infested, then we need to find a way to stop it. Wait a minute," he grinned. "I have an idea. Take a picture of the angel. Whatever takes the image of an angel is an angel."

"So?" Clara yelled. "What does that…"

"Do it!" the Doctor urged her and Clara sighed. She took a picture of the giant Churchill. And then she blinked. The Doctor pulled her and Clara screamed as the statue reappeared millimetres away from her. "Clara!"

"Doctor?" she was almost sobbing. "What do we do about the smaller Angels?"

"I'll take care of the smaller Angels," he reassured her. "Get back to the TARDIS, take that phone and plug it in. Use sonic setting 221b and the TARDIS will do the rest. I'll be along shortly."

"Doctor, I don't want to…"

"Go!" he shouted and Clara was moving, not taking her eyes off of the Churchill until she was out of the square and then she was thundering towards the TARDIS, screaming as Angels came out of alleys left, right and centre. She circled, Angels reaching out to her and as she squeezed past and weaved, unsure where to look. They had her surrounded on all sides and then she remembered what the Doctor said. She let them get closer and closer and then she ducked, looking left and right and breathing a sigh of relief as the Angels ended up stuck in an octagon around her, all staring at each other. Clara crawled out of the circle, not letting their eye contact break for a moment and then kept running until she was in the TARDIS.

She slammed her phone into the slot, just as the Doctor asked and pulled out her sonic, using setting 221b, which she knew was the projector setting. The Doctor crashed into the TARDIS moments later, grinning at her. The TARDIS took off and then he pulled Clara into a kiss.

"Open the doors!" he urged her. She did so and they looked down. Clara laughed. The photo of the giant Churchill Angel that she had taken was being projected, directly opposite the original.

"Whatever takes the image of an Angel, is an Angel," she muttered. "They're stuck looking at each other. Forever."

"Geronimo," the Doctor grinned.


	133. Baby Names

***Hey troops! Another hour, another prompt, one more to come tonight unless I get more in! I hope you guys like this one! The Doctor and Clara argue over baby names! As ever thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Keep up the prompts! TPD***

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><p>They had given up on boys' names somewhere around Stormageddon, which the Doctor had insisted was a perfectly legitimate name for a child and Clara had screamed in frustration and told him that he was impossible to reason with. After a 20 minute argument over the merits of the name Gandalf, in which Clara had threatened to slap the Doctor into the next century, literally, they decided to move on to the possibility of girls.<p>

"So we've hit a snag of boys," the Doctor admitted. "Now I've always liked Rose for a girl…"

The sound of Clara's hand connecting with his cheek made him wince almost as much as the pain of the blow itself. Fair enough, he'd earned that one. He shrugged at Clara's blazing eyes. She was fuming. Coming off of the Gandalf conversation, maybe leading with Rose wasn't his smartest move.

"First off," she said. "Rule out any women you've fallen in love with, I had to remove Danny from the boys list as we were only friends for goodness' sake. It only seems fair that companions of yours be struck off just the same."

He went to protest but knew she was right. He had been insistent that calling their son after a man she'd been intimate with was weird. He couldn't exactly name his child after Rose, River or anyone of that nature. Maybe Amy would be alright though. If he could handle that. He winced. The idea of seeing an Amelia in his life was too painful for him to bear. He smiled at Clara, watching her train her eyes on his face.

"You have a lot of candidates, don't you?" she teased.

"None that have a happy ending," he replied quietly. "Except you. But we can hardly name her Clara can we? Why don't we name her after one of your friends? Maybe Jenna?"

Clara pulled a face. "I was going to save Jenna for the middle name really. But even then, I don't think it fits. Jenna Oswald…not for me. I don't think I could give it to one of my other friends either, Jenna would be devastated if I looked her over for someone like Billie or Catherine…"

"What about…Dorabella!" the Doctor said the first name that came into his head, then faltered. "Elizabeth?" he tried again.

"I was there when you married her," Clara said in a dangerous voice. This shut him up.

"What about Duchess?" he grinned. "Or Princess."

"At least it's better than Gandalf," Clara muttered under her breath. "Keep trying."

"Hendrix, Smaug, Lady!" he paused. "Spider-Baby?"

"Why don't I just name the child?" Clara asked exasperatedly. "What's wrong with a nice, normal name like Alice or Clarissa?"

"Boring and more boring!" the Doctor groaned. "I don't want our child to have a rubbish name. There's nothing boring about Raxacoricofallapatorius."

"I'm not even going to ask."

"Ohh I have a great one."

"It probably won't be great but go ahead."

"Clara Jr."

"Awful."

"Doctor Jr?"

"Worse."

"Oh come on Clara!" the Doctor was agitated now and kicking the sofa. Clara screamed in exasperation. "Why don't we just go back to boys before you suggest another boring name like, I don't know, Ellie!"

He realised what he'd said the second he said it, his face falling as Clara looked like she'd been shot, tears starting to slide down her cheeks. She slumped on the sofa and the Doctor, silenced and shocked by what he'd just said, sat beside her, tentatively throwing an arm around her, biting his lip.

"Clara," he said quietly. "I am so sorry."

"It's fine."

"Clara, I mean it."

"Doctor, it's fine!" she snapped. "You're right, Ellie's a stupid name."

"I didn't say that."

"Sorry, you said boring. Either way."

"Clara, please," he reached out to touch her face gently. "I can see it in your eyes. You miss her, after all these years. Ellie Oswald. Our Ellie. How does that sound?"

Clara looked back at him, her smile shining through her tears.

"It sounds perfect."


	134. TARDIS Trip With The Kids

***Hey guys, final prompt for the foreseeable future (I've finally finished the list). So, this one started off cute, as the Doctor and Clara take their kids on a day trip, but it ended up being more than that. Because I wanted to explore Clara's insecurities and her greatest fears as a mother. I really hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>Clara had always been sceptical, but she knew that sooner or later, the day would come when Ellie and Craig would be old enough to go on the TARDIS. She had been putting it off for years, but now Ellie was twenty and had had several solo trips, it only seemed fair to invite her fifteen year old brother, with chimes of: 'not until you're older' running increasingly hollow and the Doctor was as eager as the other two.<p>

"Nowhere dangerous!" she chirped from her spot on the railings, frowning at her kids.

"Yes mum," Ellie rolled her eyes and flipped her dark hair over her shoulder.

"Yes mum!" Craig piped up, chuckling as he played with a couple of levers.

"Yes mum," the Doctor teased, earning him a swat from his wife.

The TARDIS revved into gear and Craig clung on for dear life, whooping and cheering his head off as Ellie allowed herself a giggle and clung onto her dad, her smiled down at her. Ellie, a lot like her mother, was short, whilst Craig had his father's height, towering over the pair of them. The TARDIS came to a crashing halt and Craig ran over to his mother, grinning as he stared at her.

"This is so cool!" he beamed.

"Where are we dad?" Ellie asked casually, linking arms with her father as they stepped towards the doors. "Somewhere cool I hope?"

"Oh yes," the Doctor laughed. "Always somewhere cool sweetie. You and Craig go explore, I need a word with your mum. Hey, Clara, you okay?" he put an arm around her as she nuzzled his chest.

"I worry about them," she murmured. "Are they cut out for this? Are they ready for this? Does this make us terrible parents?"

"Clara, I've travelled with girls younger than Ellie before. I mean Rose was only 19…" he laughed and this earned him a ferocious glare. "I'm sensing that wasn't the right thing to say…"

She rolled her eyes and stepped past him, out of the TARDIS after her children. The Doctor followed suit, whistling cheerily as they stepped out into an amusement park. Clara raised an eyebrow and swerved back to him. She remembered it then, he wasn't sure that she would. It had been thirty years since they were last here.

"This is…"

"Yep."

"Before it got trashed in the Cyberwars?"

"Indeed."

"This is amazing."

"I'm aware."

Clara giggled and threw her arms around the Doctor before whispering in his ear: "If any Cybermen turn up while our kids are here, I will personally take the TARDIS and leave you behind."

He knew that at some point he would regret those advanced TARDIS flying lessons. He had suggested starting to teach Ellie, but Clara had put her foot down at that. The Doctor knew she wouldn't like the fact that he took Ellie on solo trips while Clara was at work, so he didn't tell her. The flying lessons were just another thing Clara had forbidden him to do that he was already doing. He doubted Ellie would say anything to her mother, she was too excited. The fact that she'd nearly blown a hole in the cosmos didn't seem to startle her, but she took to flying the TARDIS like a fish to water. She was a Gallifreyan, it was in her blood.

Clara kicked the TARDIS door shut, smirking as she did so. The park was still in full flow, rides whizzing and whirling and Craig was currently riding the anti-gravity, cheering as Ellie leaned against a nearby pillar, accepting an ice cream from the Doctor. She watched her daughter and her husband sharing ice creams and her veins suddenly turned to ice. Ellie looked so much like her, when she was travelling with the Doctor. Is that the way things were now, when Clara wasn't around? Ellie and the Doctor. Ellie was just another companion, another Martha or an Amy. She was terrified by the prospect. Suddenly, she realised something. She might wake up one day and her Doctor and her daughter might not be there. She might get home from work and the TARDIS would be gone. What if they mistimed their return and Clara was on her deathbed when her 20 year old daughter returned?

She suddenly felt dizzy. She stumbled forwards and the Doctor was on her in an instant, his reassuring hands on her shoulders to steady her and she looked into his eyes, racked with concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, shooting a look over his shoulder. Ellie and Craig were already gone, finding another ride to go on. "Clara?"

"Nothing," she lied. "It's just…Ellie."

"Ellie," the Doctor repeated quietly.

"She's older than Rose," Clara stated it as a fact. "She's almost as old as I was when I started travelling with you." She shuddered. "You two are travelling when I'm not around aren't you, I can see it in the way you behave."

"Clara…"

"No!" she screamed, stepping away from him, angry now. "No. You won't do this to me. You know I used to lie awake at night, wondering if you'd make it to our next Wednesday? Well never again! I will not, cannot live, knowing that you could be somewhere across the universe with my daughter, our daughter. I can't live knowing that I might never see her again."

"Clara," he said fiercely. "I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to her."

"But you can't swear that!" she cried, tears falling. "Amy, River, Rose, Donna, even the things that happened to me. You can't always protect the people you travel with. And I never minded when it was me, knowing I could die for you. But I will not, never will, let you do that to our daughter. Because I will not lose her. Do you hear me?"

He stood back, as if she'd struck him. Her tears were real, her eyes blazing and suddenly the Doctor got it. He'd always seen the mothers of the people that he'd travelled with as irritating, annoying distractions. And for the most part, that was true. Legitimate. But Clara was different. Now, the shoe was on the other foot. And she was begging him. Because she'd almost died so many times and she had died even more times. And if that happened to Ellie…

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling her into a hug. "I promise, I'll stop the solo trips."

Ellie was rushing over and froze when she saw how upset her mum was. Clara stared at her beautiful daughter and smiled tearily at her. Ellie smiled back and Clara stumbled into her daughter's arms.

"What's wrong mum?" she asked casually, shooting a look at the Doctor.

"Don't worry about it," she replied softly. "What matters is that I love you and your dad loves you, you know that."

"Of course I do," she laughed, frowning at the Doctor. "Oh god, did you find out about the solo trips, because I promise, he's only been teaching me to fly her for a couple of months."

The Doctor flinched as Clara rounded on him.

"YOU TAUGHT HER TO FLY IT?!"

"Ellie," the Doctor grinned, terrified. "I suggest you go and find your brother. You might need to fly us home when your mother is done with me."

Ellie skipped off, leaving the Doctor to Clara's wrath.


	135. Missing Letter

***Hey guys, this impossibly hard but super amazing prompt was sent in by my wife/torture master/prompting genius xandrota. This is based on a French book where the author has lost his parents, so avoids the letter e to symbolise the loss of his mere and pere. I avoided using the letter A, to signify the loss of his Clara. I know I succeeded in avoiding using it (except at the end but that's deliberate), the question is, was what I wrote any fucking good? XD Well I'll let you be the judge of that. Keep sending them in troops! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor missed her terribly. It felt like every moment of life would be worthless, of no consequence. Ever since she'd gone, he'd been lonely, secured in vortexes of swirling destruction, his soul in pieces. Cl…he couldn't even think it. Think of her. She'd left him to rot. The Silence. They'd removed her. Not just removed her, extinguished her. The most perfect person in his life, the light of his life, gone. How would he tell him, the person who'd brought her up, helped her through the loss of her mother? He'd got her to become the person she'd been destined to be. So sweet, so funny, perfect for him in every single respect. But now…she'd gone.<p>

He'd done lots of crying. The Doctor'd found himself to be very good with the whole crying thing. It'd become something lifelineish to him. Lifelines were the leftovers, everything left in his life without her.

He still remembered losing her. It'd occurred on one of their trips, on their weekly journeys through time, to times where things were done differently. In this event, they'd found themselves in trouble. Lots of trouble. Trouble town. Plenty of trouble. The Doctor digressed. But, she'd not got out. The Silence. They'd been firing their incredible lightning bolts over the town, turning people to dust, left, right, centre, everywhere. It'd been turmoil on levels the Doctor'd not even known existed. They'd been right in the middle of it, puppets to the will of the Silence, trying to get out, but knowing in their souls they'd no hope of doing so. He'd got out, of course. But the price for it'd been her. The one thing he'd not been willing to give. If he could go…if he could stop it…if he could give his own life…

The Doctor found himself crumbling, decomposing until there would be nothing left to refer to. The Doctor would be no more. But he needed to keep going, to plough on, to keep the world in one piece. For her. For his Impossible Girl. His no longer living Impossible Girl. Not so impossible in the end, or so it seemed.

Everything felt different. The whole world shifted, bending into new forms, new designs. Sometimes, he thought he recognised something soufflé formed. But then, it would go, shooting off to join her wherever she'd ended up. Not with him. Not with her Doctor, no more. His Soufflé Girl.

It'd become so much more. So much more since her…he couldn't bring him to think the word. The hole is his being, the loneliness in his soul. It'd grown incredibly, to the point where he couldn't even form coherent thought without her. He'd strut round his box, round his console, flipping switches, levers, buttons. Every so often, he'd go to express thoughts to her, to hug her or to peck her cheek or lips. Only to remember. He'd then be forced to resist the overwhelming urge to punch something, to drive his fist into the soft, fleshy elements of himself, needing to feel it. To feel something besides the incredible suffering, turmoil in his very core. It hurt so much, there were times, there were lots of times, where he just needed it to end. But he hung on. For her. For his Impossible Girl. Would she be thinking of him, wherever she ended up? If there be some piece of her left, wherever it settled? Not likely. She'd been pummelled, ripped into pieces by the current, the fierce, electric energy which didn't relent, pounding on them until the Doctor'd got into the box. She'd not.

The box wheezed, shrieked, coming to stop in the middle of the street. He stepped out, crossing the street, not sure how to do this, but knowing he'd no choice but to. He sighed then gulped. The Doctor knocked on the front door to the house his box'd settled in front of. His house. The one he needed to tell. He opened the door, frowning when he noticed the Doctor.

When the Doctor told him, he cried. Like the Doctor cried. He punched things, just like the Doctor'd punched things. He'd sobbed. He'd been the person who'd brought her up, turned her into the girl she'd become. Now she'd gone. They were both left picking up the pieces. The Doctor should've gone, but he refused to move, refused to ditch him with his grief. So the two men wept together, wept for her.

Things only got worse from there for the Doctor. He grew restless, reckless. He'd decided to return his cloud for some time, but this only worsened things. He didn't need to be lonely; he needed to shut out everything. Needed to shut out the voices in his mind, telling him he should've rescued her. Should've rescued his Impossible Girl. Should've told her the truth before she died. Should've told her he loved her. He did, it'd been the truth. He still did. His Impossible Girl. He'd been completely, utterly, truly in love with her. Her loss broke him. It left impossible inscriptions of untold torment on him, ripping into his skin, into his bones, into his flesh, right down to his very core. It'd become too much for him to shoulder, knowing her loss couldn't be fixed. Couldn't be helped. He'd become completely consumed by grief. There existed no living being to help him. Even the Ponds were gone. River Song might've been free to help, but he didn't desire her. She could only rub it in, rub in the losses he'd suffered. Losses so enormous, he'd never be free from them.

Hope. He'd become obsessive, needing hope, looking for hope in times where there'd never be hope to be found. If there'd once been hope, it'd been extinguished, for him unreservedly. The never-ending cycle of sorrow, of distress, which only hope could pull him out of, yet it refused to indulge him. Refused to give him respite from the cold, horrific, numbing, covering his entire body, filling him with hopelessness once more.

It could go on so long, before things got better. For someone like the Doctor, it took forever. Seemingly forever. Centuries. She'd driven him to misery for centuries, before he found the light. The exit. He'd ended up, somehow, through blunders entirely due to his poor flying, on some system, so out there, he'd not thought it would be supporting life. But there she'd been. Someone new. Someone different.

It'd been worth it. In the end. He'd needed the time, those centuries of lonliness. But she'd become memories. She'd left his thought. He could move on from her. His Impossible Girl. His…Clara.


	136. Teenage Sex

***Hey guys, long time no update. Partially because I've only had a couple of prompts to do for a while now, partially because I was focusing on Year of the Doctor and partially because I'm a lazy shit. Anyway, this was sent in anon over on tumblr and is a teenage first time. I really hope you guys like it! Please, don't hesitate to send in prompts, either here or on tumblr at: whovianmachine TPD***

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><p>John Smith had loved Clara Oswald since they were six. To be precise, at the age of 6 years, 5 months and 22 days, as, curiously, they had the same birthday, November 23rd. On this one day, when they were both 6 years, 5 months and 22 days old, Clara Oswald had been over for tea. John's mum had cooked fish fingers and when she had left the room, John had scampered over to the cupboard, removed a pot of custard and put it in the microwave, as Clara watched on with wide eyes. When the microwave finished, John pulled out the pot of custard, poured it into a bowl and placed it in the middle of the table, between him and Clara. Clara, oblivious to the wonder that was fish fingers and custard had frowned and asked him what the custard was for.<p>

"You dip your fish fingers in it silly!" John said, as if it was common knowledge. So Clara, looking sceptical, had cautiously dipped a fish finger into the bowl of custard and bit into it. Her eyes widened and her face lit up and John grinned at her. Clara had flipped her hair over her shoulder, leaned in close to him and stared into his eyes.

"I love it," she whispered conspiratorially, and that was the moment that John had fallen in love with her.

10 years later, and the two teenagers had just passed their sixteenth birthday. They still saw each other every day at school and they were still close, closer than ever if John wasn't delusional. He could never tell with Clara what was real, and what was his own funny brain running away with itself. It tended to do that where Clara was concerned. He could never tell how she felt about it and he'd never told her how he felt as a result. But nevertheless, when Clara Oswald, the girl he had been in love with since they were 6 years, 5 months and 22 days old, his best friend and the most beautiful girl in creation, asked him if he wanted to go to a house party on the other side of Blackpool, he had only been able to say yes.

Clara's dad dropped them off, giving John strict instructions to ensure Clara didn't drink too much and didn't get herself into any trouble or do anything with any boys. John promised, little knowing that he would break both of those promises that night and that it would be the best decision of his life. Clara simply rolled her eyes, grabbed the bag containing the crate of beer that she and the Doctor were sharing, kissed her father on the cheek, grabbed the Doctor's hand and dragged him along behind her.

The party was already in full swing by the time that they crashed in. Clara dumped the beer in the cupboard under the stairs, pulling out two and throwing one to the Doctor before cracking open her own. She flicked her fringe out of her smoky eyes and hiked her skirt up a good few inches. She swept off her jacket, which had been covering just how revealing the dress beneath it was, as she knew her dad wouldn't approve. The Doctor didn't either of course, but that was just because he was jealous. He wanted to be the only one to see so much of Clara, selfish and irrational as it was. As he cracked open his beer, it frothed on him and as he squirmed to rescue as much of it as he could before it spilled on him, he caught Clara's giggling eye and blushed.

"You're such a numpty!" she laughed, as she gulped down her own beer. She was a much more efficient drinker than John, who was trying not to look too slow as he guzzled his in a desperate attempt to keep up with Clara. He watched her drink, a wicked fire in her eyes and he knew that he would never be able to do that.

So he didn't try too hard, and Clara finished five beers in the time it took him to drink three. She was more tipsy than he was, but only just. Someone offered them vodka shots, and those hit John hard, knocking him back and sending him staggering. Clara gasped and pulled a face that indicated she was unimpressed as she necked another beer. She was stumbling by this point and John's vision was going blurry. He saw her fall and he almost fell himself in reaching to catch her.

"I'm fine!" she insisted, pulling herself out of his arms and dusting herself off. "Jesus Johnny, you always worry too much about me!" Her words weren't slurred, but her eyes were struggling to focus. "Just grab me another beer!"

John grabbed two more beers, handing Clara hers and she kissed his cheek as a thank you. He went crimson and she snorted with laughter at that. He felt sick to his stomach and not just because of booze. She grabbed his hand and his eyes met hers. Her smile was warm, if a little boozy.

"Come on Johnny!" she giggled. "Let's go find somewhere to settle in for the night."

She led him by the hand to a small bedroom that nobody had claimed yet. They tumbled in, sipping their beers and Clara locked the door behind them. She giggled as she pulled off her dress, leaving her in her underwear, as John tried to keep his eyes and penis in check. She clambered into bed and looked up at him expectantly, tapping the vacant space beside her.

"Are you coming to bed or what?" she asked, her voice teasing and playful but John's head was pounding and it sounded like she was mocking him, laughing at him. He stripped to his boxers and climbed in beside her. He wanted to see more of her. He was hungry for her, but he had to resist, had to control himself. She was drunk. He was drunk. This was stupid. And then her hands were around his chest and he breathed in deeply, his whole body tingling.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked quietly. You could hear a pin drop. John didn't trust his voice to answer, so he shook his head. "Sorry, I just feel like a cuddle. We used to cuddle all the time when we were younger Johnny." He nodded at this. "I love you, you know. You're the only friend I have that's always been there for me."

"I love you too Clara," he replied. Just saying the words felt like a burden lifted from him. Then, he realised that she hadn't heard his reply, for she was already fast asleep. He tried to drift off, but he couldn't, so he just lay awake, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Clara to wake so that his whole life could start all over again.

Clara did wake, eventually, a long time later. She rubbed her head slightly, but she looked pretty much sober as she blinked several times, still clinging to John and she looked up at him, blushing furiously and smiling pleasantly. He looked down at her and their eyes seemed to meet for a moment. Clara reluctantly took her arms off of him but he put his hand down to catch her wrist.

"Don't," he murmured. She raised an eyebrow and smirked as she wrapped her arms around him again, a small chuckle leaving her. He couldn't believe that he'd said it, but with her arms around him, it felt right. His heart was beating so fast and he leaned in, determined to show her how he felt. There was no drink left in his system, but their friendship was still on the line, which scared John more than anything as their faces were inches apart. She kissed him, relieving him of the final movement, the final thing holding him back. John gasped at the feeling of her tongue in his mouth, but allowed her to guide him, dragging him onwards, just as she always had. He kissed back, hard, and she rolled over, pulling him on top of her.

John couldn't believe what was happening as she unclipped her bra and after a few more minutes, his morning got even better, as she pulled down her underwear and threw away his boxers. This was both of their first times and as such, it was sloppy, messy, and weird. But it felt perfect. So perfect that neither of them could believe that it was real and that it wasn't some bizarre dream. Afterwards, as they lay, side by side, Clara smiled at him and whispered: "Took you long enough to show me how you felt Johnny."

"You mean you knew?" he gasped.

"Oh my dear sweet Johnny," Clara breathed. "I always know."


	137. Intergalactic Conference

***Hey guys, another prompt here for you, sent in by the wonderful ladydi1984. The Doctor and Clara head to an intergalatic conference where he is guest speaker. Chaos ensues... Anyway, I hope you like it and please do keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>The groaning, wheezing noise of the TARDIS had become something of a comfort for Clara. Just not when she was on the loo. She panicked and flailed, but thankfully, he didn't materialise in the toilet itself, but within a couple of seconds of the TARDIS landing, he was hammering on her bathroom door.<p>

"Doctor!" Clara groaned. "Go away, I'm trying to pee!"

"What're you doing that for?" he sounded affronted and Clara threw her arms in the air, despite the fact that he couldn't see it. She flushed the loo and stepped out, finding herself being embraced by the Time Lord. "Hello Clara!"

"Hello Doctor!" she said wearily, her excitement levels slowly building nevertheless. "To what do I owe the pleasure today, you weren't scheduled to visit?"

"Well!" he was clearly excited, more so than usual, so Clara indulged him with a smile. "I was invited to the Intergalactic Conference for Sophisticated Systems, as a guest speaker no less! Isn't that amazing?"

"Go on then," Clara smirked. "I'll bite. What's the Intergalactic Conference for Sophisticated Systems?" She ran it over in her head to make sure she'd said it right.

"The ICSS is an event that occurs every 1000 years or so, where the brightest minds of the known galaxies get together and discuss everything intellectual that there is to talk about. It's one of the greatest gatherings of intelligences in the universe."

"So why did they invite you along?" Clara teased. He pulled a face.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd care to accompany me Clara Oswald?" he asked with a big, broad grin permeating his stupid face. She gave him a sparkling look.

"You mean like a date?"

"No!" he panicked. "I mean, it's just…I was given two tickets, so I need to bring a guest, or an associate, or a companion, friend, date type…person. I mean if you don't go, if I didn't invite you, then I would have nobody sitting next to me and you can bet you arse that stupid Kevin Brockadian will have a fancy guest and then he'll ask me where mine is and I'll be all: 'Shut up Brockadian, where's your time machine?' and oh just forget it, it was a stupid idea anyway Clara, forget I said anything." He was looking at the floor and shuffling his feet nervously, as she giggled hysterically.

"Doctor," Clara said softly. "Would you like me to be your date?"

He nodded and mumbled something incoherent that Clara assumed to be yes please. She leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth, earning a small smile and a furious blush. Clara giggled at that and he bit his lip before smiling warmly at her.

"Shall we?" he gestured to the TARDIS, his composure well and truly regained. Clara followed and they stepped into the time machine. The Doctor instructed her to go and change, which Clara was already doing, as she had been wearing her onesie when the Doctor had arrived to pick her up. She dressed quickly, unsure what to wear so going with a dark blue blouse and skirt, with a jacket on top and tights.

"How do I look?" she asked nervously. The Doctor grinned at her, which managed to calm and reassure her.

"You look amazing," he informed her as the TARDIS came to a halt. "We've landed."

Clara stepped out after him, the TARDIS not exactly blending in to the crazy and insane selection of spaceships around them, but then it never did. They walked quickly, the Doctor taking her hand to guide her through the various corridors and tunnels that led them to the Conference. It was a surprisingly small room, considering it was supposed to contain the smartest people from across all the galaxies. Maybe the shortlist was smaller than she'd expected. It made the fact that the Doctor was there all the more impressive, though it was still unsurprising. She knew how clever he was. They took their places and the placard told her that the man the Doctor had got pissy about, Brockadian, was the one sat on her other side, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

"Well, well!" he muttered. "What have we here? Jim Brockadian, at your service!"

"Clara Oswald!" she greeted. "I'm not a genius, I'm just the Doctor's plus one."

"Well," Brockadian smirked and Clara felt herself squirming. "He's a lucky man."

"Oh!" Clara rushed hurriedly to correct him. The Doctor was engaged in conversation with what appeared to be a giant seal. "No, we're not together."

"Well then," Brockadian moved closer to her and she immediately felt uncomfortable. She should have lied and said that she was dating the Doctor. After all, it was what she wanted, it wouldn't be a terrible lie. "Maybe I can take you for a drink when this is all over."

"I don't think so!" Clara said forcefully, sitting back but he grabbed her arm and suddenly the Doctor was flying over her to shove Brockadian away. Brockadian swore and fell back, into a creature made of rock, whose insides were burning. The Doctor said something that sounded like Pyrovile but she didn't hear exactly what it was as the creature swung for Brockadian. Clara found herself being dragged out of the way as Brockadian collided with the seal that the Doctor had been talking to. It howled and the Doctor was pulling Clara away as punches were being thrown and suddenly different coloured laser lights were filling the room.

"Well," the Doctor sighed. "It seems that we started a brawl at the ICSS. It usually takes at least a few hours to manage that."

"What do you mean we?" Clara laughed.

"I was defending your honour!" the Doctor spluttered.

"Right," Clara crossed her arms as they headed back through the corridors towards the TARDIS. "My honour can defend itself thank you very much."

"I know that, I just mean…"

"Doctor," Clara said gently as they pulled up outside the TARDIS. "I knew what you meant."

She leaned up and this time, her kiss landed on his mouth and he returned it, putting his arms on her waist as they embraced. It was a magical moment.

"Shall we?" he murmured, gesturing to his box. Clara smiled.

"We shall."


	138. Alien Music Festival

***Hey guys, latest prompt sent in over on tumblr. The Doctor and Clara head off to an alien festival, I really hope that you like it and as ever, keep sending them in and thanks to everyone who's reading, reviewing, following and favouriting. TPD***

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><p>Clara stumbled through the mud, wine in hand, crashing towards the TARDIS. She couldn't be bothered to look for her key, so she clicked the doors open. As she fell inside, the Doctor was already there, lying on the floor on the TARDIS, holding an ice pack to his head. She giggled, because it was the funniest thing that she had seen in her entire life, and lost her footing, almost tumbling to join him. She finished her wine and threw the glass out the door behind her and then clicked her fingers again, almost as an afterthought, to shut the TARDIS doors. They couldn't have drunk people getting in. That would be disastrous.<p>

"Hello," the Doctor said sleepily. "What're you doing back? How was the gig? And what're you covered in?"

Clara was covered from head to toe in bizarre orange gunk. She laughed again, because the Doctor was being exceptionally funny. She staggered slightly as she moved across the console room.

"The gig was amazing!" she informed him. "You were right, the Tratasical Zombie Army were fantastic. They sprayed the audience with this stuff afterwards, I think it's supposed to be fake blood or something, but I managed to get right up front, so I was covered!" she was super excited. "I just came back to change into my punk gear so I can go into the punk tent, are you joining me?"

"I told you," the Doctor groaned as he sat up. "We're a married couple in our thirties, we'll never get into the punk tent. Well you're in your early thirties, I'm in my twelve hundred and thirties but nevertheless. You can shave your head if you want and you still won't get in. And besides, it's dangerous. Just go and shower and change into your nice clothes, the opera tent is superb."

"Opera tent?" Clara rolled her eyes. "Will there be more of this amazing booze?"

"Yes dear," the Doctor sighed, climbing unsteadily to his feet and putting an arm on her shoulder. "Of course there'll be more booze."

The Rozatractir Festival was one of the biggest in the universe, with music from all over the galaxy and plenty of booze. Clara had asked him if they could go to Glastonbury, so he had given her the Glastonbury of the cosmos. She had spent the last two days getting sloshed and listening to insane music. He needed a break. This had been fun a few hundred years ago, but seeing as how they were contemplating having kids, he decided that maybe it was time that they grew up. He laughed at that suggestion. But nevertheless, he wasn't taking her to the punk tent. She'd get shot by an alien with a grudge against him, he was sure of it.

So instead, as Clara towelled her hair free of orange and slipped into something comfortable and nice that she didn't mind getting ruined; they stepped out of the TARDIS, back into the carnage of the festival. It was crazy, with different alien boozes, all kind of music and, in true festival style, that odd mixture of mud and tents. They moved through it all seamlessly, weaving and ducking, getting sprayed with mud by the occasional vehicle, which had the propensity to hover, but their owners seemed insistent on spraying mud everywhere, as if the lack of a person being covered in mud made it somehow less of a festival. The human race never changed.

They were filthy by the time that they finally stumbled into the opera tent, as Clara headed straight for the bar and the Doctor tried to appreciate the quality of the music. Even in here, everyone was singing along, filthy and hammered. Clara handed the Doctor a green drink that he soniced to make sure it wouldn't kill him and she almost fell over as she rolled her eyes.

"I've already soniced them!" she giggled. She giggled and fell over a lot when she was drunk, and judging by the fact that her glass was already half empty and it was a horrific purple colour, the Doctor suspected that she was more than a little drunk, any sobering up that the shower had done for her horrifically rectified. She glared at him, and he realised that he hadn't started on his drink yet. It tasted vile, but her little face lit up when he gulped it down. The music had kicked up a notch and the Doctor swayed happily as Clara crinkled her nose.

"It's a bit shit isn't it?" she asked, finishing her drink and gunning back to the bar for another one before the Doctor could stop her. He didn't dare correct her, as she slurped at what looked like a slushy of sorts. She was putting her sonic away, which he was grateful for. His first and only rule of the festival was that she sonic anything before she drank it, to make sure that it didn't melt her throat or make her shit out her insides. She had thought he was fussing, of course, but she still followed the rule, which he was grateful for.

"What is that?" he asked cautiously as Clara finished it. She shrugged and swayed even more than normal, looking like she was fighting back the urge to vomit.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "But it's made my insides feel like shite. Can we go back to the TARDIS now? This opera stuff is boring, and I think the festival thing is starting wear a bit thin, I'm feeling really drunk and awful."

She was having trouble stringing her words together, but she just about managed it. She lurched forwards and the Doctor caught her, swinging her into his arms despite her protestations. He carried her back to the TARDIS, but just before they made it, they were swept off their feet by a hover board and went crashing into the mud. Clara picked herself up, giggling like a schoolgirl and she went crashing into the TARDIS. The Doctor stumbled after her. He threw open the TARDIS doors and shut them behind him, before falling flat onto his face. Clara was sprawled in the middle of the TARDIS floor and he had tripped right over her, managing both to kick her and smash his own face on the floor.

"That's it," he groaned as they lay there, Clara still giggling, the Doctor fuming. "No more festivals."


	139. Baby on the Doorstep

***Hey guys, another day another prompt, with hopefully more on the way. Anyway, I hope you like this one, it's the classic: finding a baby on the TARDIS front doorstep with a twist to keep it fresh. i hope you guys like it. Keep sending them in. TPD***

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><p>The knock on the TARDIS door interrupted Clara from her busy day of lying around in the console room and waiting for the Doctor to fix the TARDIS. He had been crawling around under the console for a few hours now, insisting that they couldn't take off until he was done. So, they were hanging around London in 2014, waiting for the Doctor to do what he had to do and that involved Clara having nothing to do. So she sat above him as he worked, occasionally earning herself a scolding by making a sarcastic comment at an inappropriate time. He didn't appreciate her attempts to cheer him up one bit and likewise, she didn't appreciate his lack of humour at the situation. So she was more than grateful when the knock came on the door. She answered it, as he shouted something about working on the quantum phase loop and blowing a hole in the Powell Estate, which obviously neither of them wanted him to do. So Clara opened the TARDIS door. There was nobody there. Nobody, except a baby, cradled on the doorstep.<p>

"Doctor!" she called, as she picked the cradle up, the baby asleep inside it and then she brought it into the TARDIS. It didn't seem right to leave the poor thing out on the doorstep, even if she didn't know who it was or where it had come from. "Doctor, there's a – yikes."

He had popped up and was covered from head to toe in soot and oil, except a small patch around his eyes where he had been wearing goggles. His hair was slightly on fire and all over the place and he was holding some very peculiar looking tools in his hands. He wiped a little soot off of his shirt sleeve and tried to slick back his hair. It wasn't a good look.

"Why do you have a baby?" he asked, as though this was the most absurd thing in the world. Followed up by: "Is it yours?" Which was the most absurd thing in the world. Clara would have hit him if she wasn't juggling the cradle.

"No it's not mine!" she groaned exasperated. "I just found it on the doorstep, that's what the knock was you dumbo." He nodded understandingly. "Shall we keep her?"

"Her?" the Doctor frowned. "How can you tell?"

Clara rolled her eyes, not dignifying that with an answer. "She's been left, completely alone on our doorstep. We need to look after her."

"You don't find it suspicious? Not even a little?" he rolled his eyes. "Sonic her?"

Clara wasn't a fan of the Doctor patronising her, but nevertheless, she ran her sonic over the baby. "There, she's fine!" Clara snapped. "She's a poor, alone and probably scared baby girl, now are you really going to suggest leaving her behind, putting her back on the doorstep? Someone dropped her off here for a reason, probably to abandon the poor thing."

The Doctor was suspicious and Clara knew it. She was struggling to look at him for too long because he looked frankly utterly ridiculous. She didn't blame him for being suspicious but if the sonic cleared the situation then that was good enough for her. She didn't know what else to say except to give him the puppy dog eyes, which resulted in him chewing his lips and then waving his hands.

"Fine!" he groaned. "Take it to one of the bedrooms; the TARDIS will set it up for a crib. Let the little thing sleep. I'll run some scans to assess that it's safe."

Clara pecked his cheek and carried the small child towards a bedroom which, sure enough, was set up perfectly for a child when Clara got there. She lay the sleeping child into the crib and kissed its head. She automatically felt attached to this child, the sleeping baby girl that she had found on the TARDIS doorstep that the Doctor had automatically been suspicious of. She supposed that this child summed up the difference between her and the Doctor, in that her initial reaction was one of love and kindness and that his was one of confusion and suspicion.

The Doctor was testing the child, or so he claimed. She didn't know why, there was no way that such a harmless little thing was dangerous. She turned away from the sleeping child and went to leave the room when the door slammed shut in front of her. She frowned and knocked on the door, thumbing the switch for it to open and when that didn't work, she soniced the door to no avail.

"Doctor?" she called lightly, confused and then slightly louder: "Doctor!"

She turned back to the baby to see that it was no longer a baby, but a giant monster. It had long arms and talons that could rip Clara apart. It's skin was dark blue, so dark it was almost black and oily. Its mouth was huge and it smiled, showing Clara its sharp rows of teeth. She stopped breathing. She wanted to scream, but her thoughts were clouded by one thing and one thing only. She hated it when the Doctor was right. So much she hated it. More than the possibility of being ripped apart was the possibility that he'd been right. Well the definite fact that he was right. She could hardly deny that. Then, without warning, the door crashed open and she fell into the Doctor's arms.

"Took your time!" she snapped, as he dragged her away.

"Well it's a creature that knows how to manipulate our sonics," he shot back. "Stopped us scanning that it was a shape shifter, locked you in there, I had to get creative once the TARDIS told me that it was dangerous. Oh and before I forget…"

"Don't say it!" Clara whined. She hated it when he got smug.

"I told you so!" the Doctor yelled as they rounded the corner and the creature screamed ear-splittingly. "It's not after you, it wants to feed on the 1200 year old Time Lord."

"Well thank God for that," Clara retorted sarcastically. "Ideas?"

"Run?"

"Aside from running?" Clara groaned as they turned another corner, the creature behind them. "It must have weaknesses, you must have weapons of some sort in here, some ways of defeating it?" He shrugged. "Fat lot of good you are."

"You're welcome, by the way," he added pointedly. Clara rolled her eyes and ignored him. She wasn't about to admit that she had screwed up and that he had saved her, because that was probably the only thing that could make him even more intolerably smug. "Okay, console room?"

"Weapons room?" Clara asked, desperately. She knew that the Doctor wasn't a gun guy and neither was she, but this was a gun situation. "Well why don't we try reasoning with it?"

"Good idea!" he stuck his head round the corner. "Listen, why don't you stop chasing us and screaming and we can sit down and talk about our problems like grown adults?" The creature roared, spraying the Doctor with flecks of grey spit. "Nope, I don't think he wants to chat. You're welcome to give it a go." His sarcasm pissed her off even more. "Now can we return to running?"

So they ran back to the console room and the Doctor threw Clara behind him as the creature got closer. The TARDIS whined and the Doctor suddenly had an idea. She could see it in his eyes. "Clara," he said quietly. "Grab onto something, we're about to take off."

"But you said we'd blow a hole in the space time continuum," Clara frowned.

"Yes," the Doctor acknowledged. "I did. But if you hold those two blue wires together, it will be a very small hole and only last a few seconds."

Clara put two and two together as he lurched forward to flip a few switches. The TARDIS ached and groaned and Clara held the two wires requested together. The TARDIS moved, shifting sideways and whilst she and the Doctor were holding on, the creature fell, sliding out the doors and into the small black hole that was present outside the doors, as the Doctor had predicted, only for a few seconds. As it shut, and they were flying above the Powell Estate in a haphazard way, the Doctor managed to stabilise the console.

"Don't let go of those wires," he warned her. "Or the whole time vortex could fall apart."

"So when can I let go?" Clara groaned.

"Not until I've finished my repairs," the Doctor informed with a smile as a small explosion a few feet from Clara startled her. "Shouldn't take more than a few hours. Now then, where did I put my spanner…"

She was going to kill him.


	140. Old Maps, Orient Express and Dragonflies

***Hello one and all, my insane torture master (otherwise known as my wife xandrota) sent me in this prompt. Dragonflies. Old Maps. And the Orient Express. I pondered this for a while and I hope you like what I've done with it (I even used google for it *gasp*). Keep sending them in and thanks for the support. TPD***

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><p>"The Orient Express?" Clara asked eagerly. "As in Murder on the Orient Express, Orient Express? Or the space one you mentioned that one time?"<p>

"Not the space one," the Doctor informed her as he whipped around the console, flipping a few switches. "The original. Paris to Istanbul. Late 19th Century, I took the liberty of picking you out a dress for the occasional. Mr and Mrs Smith, booked tickets. Here," he handed the tickets to Clara. "We don't even have to pretend that we're married," he teased, twizzling his wedding ring.

"I'll go and change then," she beamed, kissing his cheek before plucking the tickets from his grasp and heading off. He flicked a few more switches and focused on landing the TARDIS on board the Express' baggage cabin. He had no intention of leaving her in Paris. Clara stepped out of her bedroom, looking radiant in the dress that he had picked out for her, with her hair tied up into a neat little up do with a bow in it. He bit his lip to control himself as she smiled at him.

"Shall we?" the Doctor asked gently, opening the TARDIS door for her. Clara curtsied and they stepped out onto the Orient Express. They were in the baggage cabin, which the Doctor was very smug about as per usual. They found their cabin and the Doctor settled them in. It was a sweet little bedroom that they had and Clara loved it, he could tell. As she snuggled up under the covers, she saw him frowning at something.

"What?" Clara groaned, sitting up instantly alert. "What did you spot? You're frowning. You only frown when something's going on that you don't understand or like."

"Look at this map," he muttered, throwing it over to her. "Tell me, how close would you say this train goes to Nuremburg?"

"Not that close," Clara replied, her eyebrows furrowing. "According to the route on here, it never goes north of Munich. Why?"

"Because we're close to Nuremburg," the Doctor answered quietly. "Tell me Clara, did you see any other passengers when we walked here from the baggage cabin?" She shook her head. "How about any ticket collectors?"

"It's late," she waved a hand. "I expect they're all in bed."

"Stay here," he growled. "Sonic the door shut behind me, don't let anyone in, except me."

"Where are you going?" she asked uneasily.

"To check the front cabin," he replied. "I think that this train has been hijacked."

He moved quickly, quietly, aiming for the front of the train. It rocketed along, trundling on and on down the tracks. He was looking for the front carriage. He was surprised that there weren't more men with guns, but then, maybe they had nobody left over to guard…that was a chilling thought. He reached the front cabin and there was conversation, at least three men and the cocking of guns. This made him increasingly nervous, so he leaned forwards and listened.

"We arrive in Nuremburg in twenty minutes. When we arrive, the staff will be handed over and we'll make an absolute killing."

"What do you know about this man we're handing over to?"

"Not a lot, only that we'll be rich. Use the money to find a way to get home. Of course, the fool won't know that we have the real staff still here on the train. The replica is so convincing, it would take an expert to spot it and a bloody good expert at that."

"You have the fake with you?"

"Of course, the real one's being kept in the cargo hold."

"Gentlemen," this third voice was new, different. "There appears to be a man, listening in at the door."

The Doctor swore but before he could do anything, the door was being flung open and the people inside were pointing guns at him. Well, he said people…

"This is new!" the Doctor grinned, as three giant dragonfly like humanoids pointed their guns at him. "Listen, you beautiful creatures, if you could avoid pulling those triggers, my associate is on board and has already secured the staff that you were talking about. The real one?" he lied. "So if you let the two of us go, then we'll return the staff to you and we'll just go our separate ways, how does that sound?" he bit his lip.

The one who was in the middle of the three howled, a buzzing, insane sound that rocked the Doctor, but when it spoke, it spoke in that same, human voice. "You two find this associate, kill them if you need to and get me the staff. I'll stay to guard this one."

The Doctor really hoped that Clara had disobeyed his instructions to stay in their room or they were toast. At least she had a chance to get back to the TARDIS. One of the giant dragonflies produced a small cube that sent out shots of light that circled around him like a prison. He glared at what appeared to be the leader as his lackeys went after Clara.

"You lot are Beltochi," he said conversationally as the creature snarled at him. "From the Tryquesterite belt. You said you wanted to go home, how did you end up stuck on Earth? And what is this staff that you're after?"

No response. He tried a different tact. "You think you'll be able to buy your way off this planet? To get home? That won't work. I have the only one off this planet. And if you tell me what happened to everyone on this train, I might be more inclined to help."

"They died," the Beltochi answered. "Bullets are surprisingly good at that."

The Doctor's blood ran cold. So they were murderers then. A staff, travelling from Paris to Istanbul…oh….

"You're after the Ancient Staff of Antetheses," he replied quietly. "Short range teleport, nobody's been able to get the staff to work for centuries. So you lot steal the train, pretend to sell it to cover your tracks and then use it to teleport off this planet to the nearest place you can find and then buy your way home with the earnings?" he grinned. "A multitude of flaws with that plan. First off, that teleporter can get you off the planet, but there's no star system for millions of miles that can help you. Secondly, you don't exactly blend in and Beltochi aren't shape shifters. Thirdly, if you get off the planet, the money you earned here is useless out there."

"The person we're selling to," the Beltochi replied callously. "He's not human. He's not paying us in human currency. And he's not affected by our…appearance."

"Well that doesn't solve the problem that there's nowhere to teleport to, not that the staff can take you to," the Doctor pointed out. The Beltochi slammed its fist into the wall of the shield. "Sorry, but you need my help to get off planet. And I'll give it to you if you let me and Clara go."

The creature's wings buffeted as it hammered the shield again. The Doctor presumed that that was a no. He kept his eye on the gun. The second it lowered…there! He pulled out his sonic and disabled the shield, charging into the creature, knocking it off balance. The gun went flying and they collided with a switch. The train jerked and suddenly they were thrown off balance and the gun went off. The Doctor swore but he didn't have any bullet holes in him. The Beltochi wasn't so lucky. Black blood poured from its wound and the Doctor picked himself up and went to go and find Clara.

Clara, of course, wasn't still in her cabin when he got back to it, so he kept moving, aiming for his next target, which of course was the staff, which was hopefully where Clara would be. Sure enough, as he crashed into the baggage cabin, Clara was there, holding her sonic up against the staff whilst the two Beltochi pointed guns at her.

"What the hell?" the Doctor shouted and they all whipped round.

"I told them I'd teleport with the staff and that they'd never see me or it again unless they freed you," she explained quickly. "See I kind of had the microphone setting on your sonic active so I heard your conversation with, what was it, the Beltochi?" He nodded. "Right, so I figure, the sonic can work it right?"

"Let them have the staff Clara," the Doctor said quietly. "We'll get in the TARDIS and go, everybody wins. Gents?" he asked them. Clara frowned and threw the staff towards the Beltochi. They both grabbed at it and in the moment that they snatched it up, the Doctor soniced. They vanished and Clara squealed.

"You're right," he replied with a small, dark smile. "The sonic worked it fine. They'll be somewhere between the Earth and the Sun right now, drifting through space for all eternity. I was going to let them off planet, but the truth is, they were murderers. So now they're off planet. Just like they wanted."

Clara was watching him carefully as she put her own sonic away. "You scare me sometimes," she said quietly. "You know that."


	141. Istanbul and Fireworks

***Hey troops, my amazing wife/torture master (same thing) xandrota, sent in this lovely prompt. Istanbul. Fireworks. Whouffle. Let's do this thing. As ever, I really hope you like it, please let me know what you thought of it and as ever, please keep sending in your ideas and follow me on tumblr: whovianmachine TPD***

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><p>"I hate you," Clara muttered.<p>

They were tied back to back, with a metal girder separating them. That would be frustrating enough, but they were trapped in a firework factory and it was going to be blown up in about ten minute's time. There were fireworks all around them, piles and piles of explosive devices that were only supposed to explode in the sky, but were all rigged with C4. The building was covering a secret lab, a Torchwood lab. Clara hadn't known what Torchwood was, but apparently they had a secret lab underneath a firework factory slap bang in the middle of Istanbul. They'd only come for the Champions League Final. But, sure enough, the Doctor had spotted something off, they'd investigated and now they were strapped up to a giant explosion waiting to happen.

"Look, I told you," he grumbled. "I'll find a way out, just wriggle."

"I am wriggling! These ropes are really tight! Can't you just sonic us out?"

"Can't you just sonic us out?"

"Well I can't reach mine!" Clara snapped exasperatedly.

"Well neither can I!" the Doctor shot back angrily.

They continued in this vein for several precious, time-consuming minutes, wriggling around in the ropes and shouting at each other to do better at escaping. Eventually, Clara managed to shift enough that her sonic fell out of her jacket pocket and landed conveniently in her tied up hand. It only took a little bit more manoeuvring before she was able to get the sonic on the ropes and they were free. As they clambered to their feet, the Doctor was biting his lip. Clara knew what the look he was giving her meant.

"We have to go and save the people down below don't we?" she groaned. "Of course we do. So how do we get down there?" He shrugged.

"The entrance has to be around here somewhere!" he motioned and examined the factory floor, before finding a keypad cleverly concealed on the wall. "Now where do you suppose this leads?" he asked with a smirk. Clara didn't dignify him with an answer as he soniced the panel and a small trapdoor crashed open a few metres away. Alarms were blaring down below as the Doctor checked his watch. "Five minutes, forty two seconds," he informed her.

Clara nodded and followed him down the hole. Into the unknown once more, she thought, as they stepped into the Torchwood hub. She expected to see more people tied up but they weren't. Instead there were five unconscious people strung up from the ceiling, surrounded by a purple wall that Clara took to be a shield of some kind. She rested a hand against it and an electric shock ran through her and she was thrown off of her feet. She screamed as she crashed to the floor. The Doctor was there, helping her to her feet and she smiled gratefully.

"How do we get them out?" she asked him. He ran around the shield a few times and scanned it with his sonic. There were wires surrounding the circle, so Clara traced one of them back its source. She couldn't believe her luck. It was plugged into the mains. She flicked the off switch on the plug and the shield came down instantly.

"How did you do that?" the Doctor called, rushing over with a maniacal grin on his face.

"Unplugged it at the wall," Clara said smugly, tapping his shoulder playfully as he spluttered. "Three minutes twenty six seconds," she added and he growled as they headed back into the main room. "Squeaky bum time?" she grinned and the Doctor slapped her arm.

They moved quickly, getting the five unconscious bodies down from their perches on the ceiling but Clara stared at the Doctor as they checked their watches. Less than two minutes. "We need to wake them up," He muttered. "It's the only way we'll get out in time. Go and look for something."

Clara nodded and raced into the room that was adjoined to the central hub, rooting around for something on one of the workbenches that might be of use to her. There was a smelling salt of some kind and she hoped that that would do it. She raced back to the Doctor, who was slapping one of the Torchwood workers in the face, and having no luck with it. He took the smelling salts off of her and waved them under the worker's nose and by some miracle he woke up.

"Run!" Clara urged him, practically throwing him towards the door. Ninety seconds. The other four were only a handful of seconds behind, with the Doctor pushing Clara ahead of him. She legged it, the Doctor hanging onto her metaphorical coattails. They were running on borrowed time as they followed the Torchwood people up and out of the basement, into the main factory. They crossed the room in seconds, but every second they were still inside was a second closer to death. The Doctor overtook Clara, squeezing her hand and pulling her along behind him. They reached the exit with roughly ten seconds left to get clear and threw themselves out, following the others. The Doctor hurtled along, Clara clinging on for dear life. She squealed as they dived for cover and the explosion behind her sent flames licking at the back of her legs, jacket and the nape of her neck.

"Are you okay?" the Doctor coughed, as thick black smoke filled the air. Fireworks were going off left right and centre, those that hadn't already gone off in the initial explosion whizzing about, fire everywhere.

"I think so," Clara choked, keeping low and ignoring the burning pain in her back. "I'm not on fire am I?" The Doctor shook his head. "Then I'm okay. That was close."

"Wouldn't be any fun otherwise," the Doctor shot back and pulled her to her feet, holding her close to him. "You sure you're alright?"

She leaned up and kissed him gently, taking his hand with hers and smiling warmly. "I'm fine," she promised. "Now, shall we get to the Liverpool match?"

They turned around as there were roars and fireworks filled the skies of Istanbul. The Doctor smiled. "Something tells me we missed it," he chuckled.


	142. Aquarium

***Hey guys, this one was sent in by the wonderful, crazy, evil xandrota who gave me some classical music to browse through and I settled with Saint-Saens: Aquarium. It's a sad, Transitions based piece and I hope you like it. As ever, keep sending them in and thanks for reading. TPD***

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><p>Clara had never seen anything quite like it before. The world was magical and pure. As she stared above her, the blues and greens morphing together with the shadows, she felt like she was walking in a rainbow, or in a glass tube at the heart of an ocean. The air around her seemed to shimmer as she stepped through it, her arm firmly linked around the Doctor's. It was beautiful.<p>

"This place," she muttered. "It's incredible. Absolutely incredible. Where are we?"

"Do you like it?" he murmured. "It's called the Valley of Beauty. A name I think you'll find is apt. It's really just a tunnel of gravity, a peculiarity of the way the galaxies here collide. All around us is stardust. The decomposing planets around us reforming into various different wavelengths form the most curious colour pattern. It's only around once every million years, for a few minutes, before the gravity tunnel collapses. We don't have long before we need to get back inside the TARDIS but I thought you might like to see it. No human ever has before. Nobody has been here, where we're standing before. They can only see it from the outside…and imagine."

"This is why I love you," Clara breathed, leaning into him as she looked up at the incredible rush of colours. "You show me the most incredible things and then act like it's no big deal. I suppose to you, it isn't. But anyone alive would kill to see this."

"I would kill to see this," she murmured, kissing his cheek and snaking her arm under his jacket and onto his chest. "How long do we have?"

"Not long," he whispered in reply. There was nobody to hear them, but it felt as though speaking loudly would shatter the marvellous illusion of the place. The blue drifting past her on the left seemed to tussle with a streak of red, the two swirling side by side, intertwining, as if battling for supremacy and eventually, the blue won out, subverting the red which collapsed and the blue carried on shooting down, circling below Clara, absorbing bits of green and gold and rocketing back up the other side of the tunnel, dancing in the light. Above her, the green was forming new shapes and ideas, forming with the blues to create a spectrum, a whole array of blue and greens that whipped into each other, every possible connection between them. She felt her mouth fall open in wonder.

"Time's almost up," the Doctor said sadly. She could see the blues crashing ahead of her and as she looked forward, she could see the spectrums above and below the gravity tunnel combining, rushing towards them like a giant wave, threatening to knock them off their feet. "Back into the TARDIS," he said gently and she followed him into the box, feeling the ground below them wobble. Then, they looked out as the tunnel collapsed completely and the sea of colours crashed together. They were on the outside now, drifting away from it, just like everyone else. They had lost their moment.

"That was…something else," Clara breathed. "I can't believe it's over." She looked up at him. "We'd better be getting back, but thank you for this."

"No thank you," he replied sadly, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I wish we had more time," he breathed. "I wish you had more time." She had less than a year left, they both knew that. They just needed to make the most of what was left.

"We've had all the time in the world," she told him gently, trying to stop the tears from falling. "We've made the most of it."

"Happy 50th Anniversary Clara," he sobbed.

"Happy 50th Anniversary Doctor," she failed to stop herself crying.


	143. Knight and Damsel

***Hey troops, sorry I've not been on the ball much recently. Now seems like a good time to announce I'm going on the aforepromised semi-hiatus. I'm going to be cutting back my writing significantly over the next two months or so and focusing on essays and exams. I will try and post some prompts if and when I get them and I'll be working on a new super cool AU idea I have that will be fucking awesome when it's finished, but I doubt I'll post anything on it until mid-June. Anyway, this sweet little prompt came in over on tumblr. The Doctor as a knight, Clara as a Damsel, I hope you like it. Send them in and I'll try to get them done soon! TPD***

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><p>"Of all the stupid ideas you've ever had," Clara said through gritted teeth. "This is by far the stupidest."<p>

"Hold still!" the Doctor grumbled as he tied up her hair into the proper, medieval style. "Stop squirming, you're going to look ridiculous."

"Oh believe me!" Clara muttered darkly. "I'm going to look ridiculous anyway." She was wearing a long pink, frilly dress and her hair was done up in an old fashioned style, so that she looked like a proper princess. She didn't see the point. "I just don't get it. Why are we going to a medieval re-enactment fair?"

"Why not?" the Doctor gasped. "The hog roasts, the jousting, the archers, it'll be so much fun!" He was grinning gleefully and Clara resisted the urge to hit him rising within her.

"So why don't we just go to, I dunno, the Middle Ages?" she almost shouted but kept her tone under control or he'd get snappy with her. "We have a time machine, why are we going to shitty re-enactments?" she groaned as the Doctor shrugged.

"The Middle Ages are dirty," he replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And dangerous. No, no, I much prefer the way I've done this, you and me, dressing up, doesn't that all sound like so much fun?"

"No," she answered instantaneously. "Actually. Not even slightly fun. Anyway, why do you get to be a knight, and I'm stuck looking like an idiot? I mean you'll look like an idiot too don't get me wrong, but it's a bit of a kick in the nuts for anyone fighting against stereotypical gender roles."

The Doctor rolled his eyes at this. "You forget that in the Middle Ages, there was no feminism, so it hardly seems appropriate for you to be running around dressed as a knight."

"Yes, but we're not going to the Middle Ages," Clara shot back. "We're going to some shitty renaissance fair."

Clara continued to grumble as the Doctor changed into his costume, complete with sword and shield and he continued to ignore her protests all the way into the TARDIS. Luckily, it appeared that the TARDIS agreed with Clara. As they touched down and stepped out, the Doctor frowned and Clara snorted with laughter.

"This isn't a fair," he informed her, as someone threw their excrement out a window nearby. "This is the Middle Ages. It's actually the year 1123."

"Awesome," Clara said as dryly as she could manage. "I still look like a fucking dingbat."

"Halt there, Sir Knight!" a man dressed in similar garb to the Doctor approached on horseback. "I am Sir Geldred, the bold. May I ask what your business is in this town?"

"I am Sir Doctor," he replied. "The Intelligent." Clara snorted at that. "This is my wife, the Lady Clara." Clara flashed him her wedding ring with a grin and curtsied. "We have no business here, just travelling."

"The Lady Clara!" he gasped and bowed. "I had no idea that her excellence would be coming. Truthfully, your beauty is breath-taking. The stories do not do you justice!" Clara blushed at that. "Those rags are not fit for you! Come, we shall hold a feast at the castle in your honour! Bring your…husband!" He eyed the Doctor like he was dirt beneath his shoe.

"Echo?" Clara whispered to him as they followed the knight through the streets of…wherever they were. The Doctor had been right about one thing, it was dirty and the squalor made Clara feel slightly ill as they walked.

"Must be," he replied in an undertone. They walked on through the streets, until they reached the castle. Truthfully, it wasn't much of a castle, just a wooden keep, but the room that they were shown to was comfortable enough and Clara was given some fresh clothes that smelled worse than what the Doctor had given her, but both fit better and looked nice. The Doctor was still wearing his armour as they sat down to dinner with Sir Geldred, who, it turned out, was the knight looking after the castle and the surrounding town, which turned out to be what would in a thousand years be Northampton. Clara had been to Northampton and truthfully, it hadn't improved a lot.

Over dinner, things took an unexpected turn. Sir Geldred wouldn't stop flirting with Clara, who politely played along, but all the same, kissed the Doctor when he leaned in to her. This kiss, however, only served to rile up Sir Geldred and, over dessert, after he'd had about four cups of wine, challenged the Doctor to a dual for Clara's heart. The Doctor spluttered and protested, but knew that if he backed out, then Sir Geldred would just kill him and take Clara anyway. Clara protested about as vehemently as she could, but Sir Geldred had long since stopped listening to a word that she had to say. So, a space was cleared out in the field outside the keep and the Doctor and Sir Geldred were standing a few metres apart, a small crowd surrounding them, with Clara looking on despairingly. The Doctor had told her that he had been a dab hand with a sword during previous regenerations. She didn't doubt that, but she did doubt that he still was.

Sure enough, as the fight started, it quickly became clear that the Doctor was outmatched. He flailed and swung his sword like a mad person, but Sir Geldred was quicker. He stepped in and swiped, raking the Doctor's armour and sending him stumbling back. He lost his grip on his shield as he brought it up to block a heavy strike and it spun off, crashing to the ground. Clara couldn't help but let out a small scream as Sir Geldred came inches from taking the Doctor's head off. The Doctor moved back, away from the laughing knight and then Clara stepped in.

She ran, breaking the circle of watchers to gasps and shrieks. The Doctor spotted her and went to shout something, but luckily, Sir Geldred was oblivious as Clara swept up the Doctor's fallen shield off of the ground and swung it with all of her might. The shield rapped against the back of Sir Geldred's helmet and he went down like a sack of potatoes to stunned silence.

"See!" the Doctor shouted as he pulled off his helmet and glared at Clara accusatorially. "See, what did I tell you? The Middle Ages are dangerous! I almost got my head taken off!"

"How is that my fault?" Clara shot back.

"Well if you hadn't been all fairest maiden in the land, we wouldn't be in this mess!" the Doctor yelled. "Now hit him again, I think he's waking up!"

Clara let out a little squeak as she crashed the shield down on Sir Geldred's head again. "TARDIS?" she asked breathlessly, as they linked arms, the crowds parting for them.

"TARDIS," the Doctor agreed.


	144. Telling Ellie

***Hey guys, shorter prompt this one and the last one on my list, so that's your lot for now unless more come in. Anyway, I hope you guys like it! The Doctor and Clara tell their daughter that they're expecting another child. As ever, thanks a lot for all your support TPD***

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><p>Once they knew that they were expecting a second child, they needed to tell Ellie. The Doctor dealt with it the way that he always dealt with big, emotional conversations, by running off in the TARDIS and trying to leave Clara to handle it. And Clara handled it the way that she always did, by dragging the Doctor out of the TARDIS kicking and screaming and making him sit down with their daughter and explain the situation. Their oblivious four year daughter was playing with her Thomas the Tank Engine play set. She was in the main living room, with the wooden train tracks sprawled across every inch of the floor and the Doctor and Clara had to be careful not to step on Percy, who was sat on the line or Thomas, who was being trundled round by the dark haired four year old.<p>

"Ellie?" Clara asked gently. "Can you come here for a second?"

Ellie looked up, her head bobbed and she scurried over, crawling until she could stand and then launching herself onto the sofa and onto her mum's knee. The Doctor had tried to slink away but Clara shot him a look and he came back to sit beside Clara.

"What is it mummy?" Ellie asked innocently, blinking with her big brown eyes.

"Ellie, we have some big, exciting news for you," Clara said softly, pushing Ellie's fringe off her face gently and glancing at the Doctor, who had suddenly become very interested in 'fixing' the lamp with his sonic. "You're going to have a baby brother!"

Ellie seemed to frown, processing this information. She blinked at her mother. "Can I have a baby sister instead?" she asked, like she was picking out a Christmas present. The Doctor wheeled round excitedly and Clara, aware that he was almost certainly about to reel off a very long and complicated suggestion as to how to use the fact that the baby was part Time-Lord to change its sex, shot him her filthiest look and hit him round the head with his own sonic.

"No honey," Clara said, before the Doctor could open his mouth. "I'm afraid it's going to be a baby brother. Now listen, your dad and I just want you to know that when he gets here, he's going to be very small and he's going to need a lot of our attention, but we still love you just as much, okay?"

Ellie was processing this new information. "Can I play with him?" she asked and then held up a finger to silence her mother as she seemed deep in thought and then she looked up in horror. "I won't have to share my Thomas set, will I?"

The Doctor snorted with laughter and Clara elbowed him in the gut.

"Maybe, we'll see," she smiled as the Doctor flailed.

"Okay," Ellie nodded. "A brother could be cool." Then she frowned. "He won't be like daddy will he? Only daddy's really stupid."

The Doctor spluttered as Clara burst out laughing, Ellie blinking at them, silently demanding an answer.

"No dear," Clara smirked and the Doctor looked horribly affronted. "He won't be like daddy. Nobody's like your daddy."

"And don't you forget it," the Doctor smiled as Ellie scuttled off back to play with her toys.


	145. The Return

***Hey troops, I did warn you guys about the hiatus but even so, I feel bad now that it's hitting home. There will be half a dozen or so prompts which are on my list and feel free to keep sending them in to keep yours truly ticking over, but I have no idea how much time I'll be in for them. What I can say is this: 9th June is when it is over. After that, you have me for 4 months (barring weeks in Prague and Florida where alcohol and family will be taking place). Anyway, this one will hopefully keep you ticking over. The premise was 11's return to see 12 and Clara and be jealous. I decided to do it slightly differently, with Clara facing an impossible question from her two impossible Doctors... TPD***

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><p>"Are you happy?"<p>

It was a loaded question. Especially coming out of his mouth. Both of his mouths. He'd asked her twice, in the space of a few hours. Once in his current incarnation and once in his former. She wasn't sure which one hurt most. The first one stung, like a blade through the heart. She was confused, angry, frustrated. That her Doctor, felt the need to ask her that. She was pissed off that he even needed to ask. She'd snapped at him of course, telling him that of course she was happy and why did he even have to ask. It stung because she hated being put on the spot.

And of course, it also hurt when her former Doctor had asked her. It hit her like wildfire, burning through her. For a different reason of course. Because it was still a loaded question. And she didn't know how to answer this time. And once again she was angry. Because he was putting her on the spot. And she hated him for it. In both cases. Because in both cases, the Doctor, her Doctor was asking her the same question: "Are you happier with him than me?" Her current Doctor wanted to know if he was exceeding the standard set by her former Doctor, who needed to know if she was happier now that he had popped his clogs. And she didn't have an answer for either of them.

She didn't even know how it was possible for this idiot to be jealous of himself, but here she was, trapped between a rock and a hard place. Two jealous Doctors. With her current Doctor, the obvious answer was yes, so she said that, but in a way that indicated she was less than happy, because he'd asked the question. With her bow tie wearing mad man, it was harder. She wanted to tell him that she was happy, but he had a heartbroken look on his face. She knew how selfish he felt, but she could see that such a large part of him just wanted her to admit she missed him. Which she did, of course she did. But not enough. Not enough to admit to him, honestly, that she wasn't happy. And she could tell, as she stared into his eyes, that if she lied to him he'd know. So, she told him the same thing that she told her other Doctor, only in the completely opposite tone of voice. Whilst the words had been intended as a weapon against her own Time Lord, attempting to slice and dice and warn him from asking such a question again, with her old Doctor, who was staring lovingly at her, it came out almost apologetically. She didn't want him to feel the pain. But she had no choice.

Because the truth was, she knew that her former Doctor, a large part of him at least, would be happy to hear it. Knowing that at the least, he had something to look forward to, even if he was jealous, even if he hated himself for wanting her to be unhappy. So she said the words, the words that she had said to her Doctor, before she had stormed out on him, fighting back the urge to scream as she crashed away from the TARDIS, around the corner and into the side of another blue box.

He'd been watching her for a while. A few hours apparently, through her bedroom window, watching her cuddled up in bed with her Doctor. They had been watching Mulan and he'd been stroking Clara's hair and all the while, her old Doctor had been watching. He hadn't needed to ask of course, they both knew that he knew who it was. And then they had walked out to the TARDIS, he had asked her that insane question and she had found herself face to face with him and he had asked her that exactly the same, completely horrible question. And here she was. Giving the same answer. And afterwards, she would turn on her heels and walk away. She would stumble back into the TARDIS, bump into her Doctor and kiss him. To show him that she wasn't angry. That she loved him. And above all, that she was meant what she had said to him. So that's exactly what she did. After she did the Doctor, her old Doctor, the truth, as simply as she could.

"Yes. I'm happy. I'm happier than I've ever been. Because of you."


	146. Jealous Flatmate

***Hey troops! I got an anon prompt on tumblr, asking for more Danny and Jealous Doctor. I struggled with this one for a while because I've played the jealousy card before, especially where Danny is concerned. So, AU where the Doctor is Clara's flatmate and he accidentally sort of stalks her (in a very Doctoresque way) and she lashes out on him for it. Anyway, I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>Clara had known what she would find when she got back to her apartment. She had spotted him about ten minutes into the date and not known quite how to react. She hadn't expected this. Maybe she should have. She tried to focus on the funny, sweet and sexy Danny, but she couldn't, not knowing that her best friend, flatmate and possible love of her life was hiding in the bushes outside the bar. Why did he always do this to her? She had deliberately not mentioned that she was going out on a date because she knew he'd do something moronic like ask a million questions or get the guy arrested. How the fuck did he know?<p>

And so, as she finally bid the-impossibly-perfect-but-not-the-Doctor-Danny a goodnight, kissing his cheek to show that she really wasn't overly interested but that she had fun, and started walking home, she couldn't get the Doctor out of her head. She knew that she was madly in love with him. But right now, she was also insanely pissed off with him. He had the nerve to pull this stunt? She stormed into the flat, kicking open his bedroom door without even knocking. He'd have been expecting her, one way or the other and he smiled at her, sat on his bed in his pyjamas, looking as inconspicuous and innocent as it was possible for him to look. Clara stood looming over him, her hair falling out of her bun onto her shoulders, her hands on her hips, giving him the fiercest glare that she could muster. And all she could think about was how pissed off she was that she was probably turning the little bastard on right now. He smiled at her, not betraying a hint of the nerves he was inevitably feeling.

"What the fuck?" she snapped. He frowned, as if he didn't know what she was on about, but she could see in his eyes that he knew that he was rumbled.

"What's the matter?" he asked gently. "Did something go wrong at your work thing?"

That was the lie she'd given him. A work thing. Told him she was meeting people from work to avoid seeing the look on his face when she told him that she had a date. She loved the Doctor more than anything, but she couldn't be with him. He didn't feel the same way. He could never know how she felt.

"You know exactly what the fuck is wrong with me you arsehole!" Clara snapped. "You were hiding in the bushes outside the bar! Why the fuck were you there? How the fuck did you know that I even had a date?"

He didn't bother keeping up the pretence. She hadn't expected him to, not for very long at least. He simply bit his lip and tried to look as sweet and caring as he could as she shot him daggers.

"I was worried about you!" he protested. "I'd called Tom to make sure that you got to your drinks alright and to ask him to ask you to bring home some milk, because your phone died and then he said that you weren't meeting him but that you were on a date with some Danny bloke so it hotfooted it over there to make sure he wasn't you know, forcing his tongue down your throat and what not!"

"You were checking up on me and you were stalking me!" Clara informed him angrily, her glare boring a hole into his skull. "And it's weird and creepy."

"Are you going to see him again?" the Doctor asked, going to straighten his bow tie and then realising that he had no bow tie to straighten. Clara glared at him and flipped him off, before turning to walk out.

"We're not talking, it's none of your fucking business."

"Oh come on Clara, we tell each other everything!"

"Well I'm revoking that rule! Since apparently when I don't tell you something, you think the prudent way to respond to this is to stalk me until you find out."

"That's unfair." He reached for her.

"Is it?" she wheeled around to shoot him a steely gaze that made him back off. He raised his hands defensively as her eyes narrowed to slits. "God damn it, I knew you'd do something weird, that's why I didn't fucking tell you about him."

"You think I'm weird?" he shot back, a lot less forcefully than she knew he'd been aiming for.

"In the best possible way most of the time!" she responded. "One of the reasons I love you to bits is that you're not like normal people, but when you stalk my dates in bushes, it goes from slightly weird to super weird. Like creepy weird." He looked crestfallen. "Stop looking at me like I kicked your puppy, it's not okay. You can't just give me the puppy dog eyes and expect me to forgive you." She could feel herself wilting. "No I'm not going out with him again. But I'm still furious with you."

She slammed his bedroom door. What she missed, was that he punched the air the second she was gone. What he missed, was the little smile on her face. Whatever his faults, he was still her Doctor. And she loved him for it.


	147. Day of the Doctor Kiss

***Hey troops. It's been a while, but I like to think I'm at least trying to take this almost/sort of hiatus seriously. Anyway, I meant to get this done a couple of days ago, so I'm super sorry and it's been on the list for almost two weeks now which is awful. Anyway, this one is for puke not cutee, who asked for a Day of the Doctor kiss (you know the one I'm on about XD). Anyway, I really wanted to delve into Clara's head here and really explore the relationship between 11 and Clara at the end of Day of the Doctor and I really hope you like it. Please keep sending them in. I have a 2500 word essay to write, so that's my task for tomorrow but I hope to get one more prompt to you either tonight or tomorrow :) And it'll be a bit of a belter. TPD***

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><p>"I always know."<p>

She had needed him to know that she was there. That she was always there. And she would continue to be there until the end of time. The Doctor needed someone, she could tell. And through this whole mess, that was what she had tried to do. That was what she had done. He had needed someone, today more than ever. She saw her Doctor, the man she loved and she had seen in that moment, why he travelled with someone. Why he travelled with her. Because he needed her. That was why she was there. To remind him who he was when he'd lost himself.

And in a way she had needed him too. She recognised that look on his face when he'd been staring at her, asking her what to do. She had never imagined herself being in that position, with her Doctor, about to slaughter millions. And now…now she had never felt better. Knowing that her Doctor hadn't done it, hadn't been able to do it, made her overwhelmingly happy. It didn't matter to her that it had been her that had made it happen. She hadn't really done anything. All she had done, was remind him of who he was. She wasn't super Doctor smart. She wasn't the one who could work out the Transdimensional blah blah that he had done to save Gallifrey. But she was Doctor smart. She might not understand the intricate workings of the universe, but she understood the intricate workings of her Doctor and, on this occasion, that had been enough.

She had met his other selves and his other selves were all gone, leaving her alone with her Doctor. And he needed a moment alone with his painting. She had been there when it had mattered most and she would be there for him again the next time. Now, he just needed a moment to contemplate the significance of what they had done. He, of course, had overstated Clara's role in events. But she didn't mind that too much. She liked thinking that he relied on her, when in truth, she relied on him.

The kiss had meant to show that reassurance. The reassurance that she would be right inside of the TARDIS when he was ready to go. The reassurance that the next time he needed a hand to hold, hers would be right beside him. The reassurance that the next time he needed anyone, she would be there for him. To save him. Whether it be literal or, like today, metaphorical. She had seen the look on his face so many times, the look of pure disgust at himself. And now it was gone, joy etched across every wrinkle, every curvature of his face and his big, sad eyes, well. They suddenly looked a lot less sad. And the kiss was to reassure him that as long as she was around, he would feel that way more often.

She had been aiming for his cheek. She could have sworn that she was. Or at least she had definitely been aiming for the corner of his mouth. As she reached, standing on tip-toes, taking his face in her hand and gently stroking his jaw line, their eyes connecting, she genuinely thought that she was aiming for the corner of his mouth. But her face had other ideas and their lips met. The impact sent shockwaves to every corner of her body. She shivered slightly at the contact but didn't break it. He was frozen, stiff, so she carried on the motion, actually kissing him on the lips. Her Doctor. On the lips. She couldn't stop now. She still needed to convey that same message, that same reassuring, caring feeling, that she would never abandon him. She didn't walk out on the people that she cared about. And boy did she care about the Doctor.

And he was kissing her back. It took her a moment to realise it, but he had shut his eyes, leant down slightly, into the kiss and suddenly his lips were opening and she almost squealed. In shock, in delight, she wasn't sure. But she felt like she was on fire, as she opened her mouth to greet him. The second his tongue grazed her tooth, she let out a noise, a gasping squeak and she could feel him smiling through the kiss. All thoughts of reassurance, of caring for her Doctor and of being there for him were slowly melting away, being replaced by a hunger, a longing for him that could not be quelled.

His hand was raising up slowly to mesh with her hair and she was still gently stroking his cheek. Every touch between them felt intimate, each brush of contact burning Clara's skin. As his hand found her hair, she felt like she was going to melt, melt into him, become part of him, like a planet falling into a supernova. She breathed deeply as the kiss deepened and her tongue was exploring his mouth as his explored hers. They were learning to understand each other, getting a sense of how their faces worked when rammed together and Clara had to admit, that he was good at this. They had only been kissing for a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity and she wanted nothing more than to stay in this position with him for an eternity more.

Then he broke the kiss, and out of instinct as she managed to grab a hold of herself, Clara jerked back, the blood in her cheeks making her feel dizzy and his hand was on her shoulder. She knew it was to steady her, but the touch just made her feel weaker. She stared up at him.

"I'll just wait in the TARDIS," she murmured, stepping away from him and crossing the room to the TARDIS. She opened the doors and fell inside, shutting them and collapsing against the doors, sitting there, against the door that he rarely opened, rapping her head gently backwards against the wood. She had kissed him. The Doctor. Her Doctor. And it had been unlike anything she had ever experienced. She didn't know what it meant, except that she wanted to do it again. A few moments later, the door beside her opened and he stumbled in, looking down at her with an expression on his face that she didn't understand. Then, he gave her the biggest grin she had ever seen the Doctor give, his eyes warm and loving and he offered her a hand to help her up. Clara took it and dusted herself off, still flushing furiously, her brain working at a million miles an hour.

"So," he said and she realised what it was. He was nervous. She couldn't blame him. "Cocktails on the Moon."

"Cocktails on the Moon," Clara agreed and, as she smiled back at him and her heart warmed, she realised that kissing him was only just the second best thing she had done that day.


	148. Breaking the 4th Wall

***Hey again troops. So, xandrota, insane as she is, decided to hit me with a 4th wall breaking prompt. Well I have to admit, I had a lot of fun with this, satirising myself, Who, its writers and basically the entirety of the fandom along the way. As I say, it's just a bit of fun, it's probably shit, but I hope you guys like it. Feel free to keep sending prompts in, I'll get to them when I can. Only 6 weeks until freedom! TPD***

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><p>They were tied up again. Clara wriggled and wriggled but she couldn't get free. She turned to the Doctor exasperated. He was tied up next to her, smiling warmly and nodded politely at her when she looked at him.<p>

"Doctor!" she called to him exasperatedly. "What are we going to do?"

"Oh I don't know!" he shrugged. "I imagine a solution will present itself. It would be a pretty dull story if we spent the entire time tied up."

"Wait what?" Clara frowned. "Did you just refer to this as a story?" He nodded. Clara ignored him and went back to struggling. He just sat there calmly. She squeaked a little and turned to him anxiously. "Where are we? Who are the people who have us trapped? When are they coming back for us?"

"Hm?" he turned back to her and shrugged. "I don't know Clara, nobody knows! You don't know, I don't know, the audience does know, hell the writer probably still doesn't know. And frankly it's irrelevant. Any minute now, well I say any minute now, it'll be when our conversation has to conveniently end, some blokes will come in, probably with guns, because without guns, the threat level would go down. Just once, I'd like it if they didn't have guns, it would be interesting to measure the effects on the threat level. I think if anything, it might go up, because they're scary enough that they don't even need guns. But I digress, they'll come in, at which point the writer will magically think up some bullshit exposition, maybe name drop a planet or species to get people on edge and then we'll either be set free or magically free ourselves. And…here they are!"

Before Clara had a chance to reply, the metallic doors swung open and two men with guns swept in, standing by the doors as a Dalek swept into the room and they saluted. Clara gasped and the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"See, just when the writer needed the conversation to end. Plus, he's gone with an easy name drop, get the readers on edge. And oh look," he plonked his hands up and pulled his sonic, freeing Clara instantly and then swirling to disable the guns. Clara leapt to her feet and screamed as the Dalek fired at her. Luckily it missed, the Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her along after him, sonicing the door shut behind him.

"See, magically freed myself. Luckily, the sonic was able to disable guns, free you and lock that door behind us. Thank Christ for the expositionary genius who came up with it. And before you start shouting, I knew the Dalek would miss you, we're not even at the 500 word mark yet and this prompt is bound to be roughly 1000 words. Once we hit the 800 word mark, then we can start fearing for your safety. Get down and not a word!" he hissed before Clara could respond and ducked her into a small alcove that was conveniently placed in the wall as a Dalek whizzed past.

"Thank goodness for that," he muttered, as he pulled them back into the corridor. "Still the writer wouldn't let a Dalek see us without a hiding place and he needed a reason for you to not question the fact that I've been breaking the 4th wall since we got captured in a way that the writer probably won't even bother to describe. I'm surprised the alarms haven't gone off yet, but I suppose the idiot forgot to write it so…" The alarms went off around them. "See, writers! I always have to prompt them. Oh look, a conveniently located, relatively unguarded control room!"

Clara wanted to say something, but didn't get the chance as the Doctor raced into the room, sonicing two guards to disable their weapons. Clara raced after him and into the main control room, sonicing everything he could see and flipping switches as Daleks prowled their way into the room. The TARDIS was right behind the Doctor and Clara positioned herself between him and it and eyeing up the Daleks nervously. "Doctor?" she called.

"Not quite at 700 Clara, warn me when we're at 800!" he snapped. "Anyway, they're not going to shoot me, not until we've had an obligatory chat. Are you Daleks?" They surrounded him, her and the TARDIS, frozen in place. Then, the white Dalek, the one in charge according to the Doctor, swept into the room, its gaze steeling Clara's heart.

"Doctor!" it snarled, in its monotone, horrifying voice.

"Just give me a minute dear," the Doctor replied absent-mindedly and Clara took a sharp breath.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"I'm doing scientific things Clara!" he retorted. "Well, I'm pushing buttons and waving my sonic. If we've got a good writer, he'll make up something fairly believable that makes me sound super intelligent and if not, then he'll not bother and we'll get slaughtered by the fandom for it being too fairy tale. You see Clara, it's all about perspective. Whether or not a writer is any good is largely predetermined by your own personal opinion of them and most of the facts people find to back up their argument are equally applicable to any other writer." He looked up and swore. "We're past 800 aren't we?" he checked his watch. "Way past 800. We're at 900. And we're still here. Oh hell this is dangerous territory. Clara, TARDIS now!"

She didn't need to be told twice and dived into the TARDIS, the Doctor following and slamming the doors behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief and he grinned at her. "Now then, the Daleks should all blow up. Because I did a thing. A clever thing. Anyway, they're Daleks, so unless people have a vendetta against the writer, I doubt anyone will care I blew them up."

He strolled away from her and Clara frowned, looking at him like he was insane.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded. "What is all this writer nonsense?"

"Doesn't matter," he waved it off. "What matters is that we're 1000 words in. So we're at the end of the prompt. And this is a Whouffle prompt and the writer hasn't even dropped in an obligatory reference to our current relationship status. Usually by this point, I've kissed you or there's been some mention of the wedding or engagement rings because it's a nice and easy reference point. So, now I'm going to give the people what they came here to see. Or didn't. In which case, they're idiots. This is a Souffez prompt, if they don't like you and me kissing, they should fuck off and go cry over something else."

He grabbed Clara, pulling her into a sweeping kiss and she squealed as their lips crashed together. She breathed deeply and then the Doctor's tongue was in her mouth. Then, he broke the contact and looked directly at the reader, smiling.

"The End."


	149. Going Domestic (Day 1)

***Hey troops, your friendly neighbourhood Potter Doctor here! So, I got sent in a prompt, asking for the Doctor and Clara to go and stay with Craig and Sophie for a few days. So, I wanted to write a longish prompt, covering a week. And then I wrote 1500 words and realised I was still on Day 1...So I'm going to write like 7 prompts. You lucky shits xD Anyway, here's the first day of their stay (and honestly, I could write these two stopping over for days and days and days). Keep on sending them in! TPD***

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><p><strong>Day One<strong>

Clara was annoyed. She didn't even have to tell the Doctor that she was annoyed, because annoyance was oozing from every pore, that's how annoyed she was. He stopped sonicing to smile nervously at her as she glared ferociously at him and then he went back to scanning the area that the TARDIS had just dematerialised from. Without them on board. Her arms were folded as the air flapped at her blue dress and she was fixated on the Doctor.

"Well?!" she demanded forcefully, trying to cover over how nervous she was. What if they were stuck…wherever it was that they were? They were in a back alley of sorts. The smell, the feel of it was very familiar and that reassured Clara, but without the TARDIS, she was still anxious.

"She's gone." The Doctor turned back to Clara, who glared at him even harder. "Sorry, you already knew that. She'll be back." The glaring intensified. "In a week," he clarified, with a warm smile and Clara sighed in relief. "Sorry, I must've left the cordial inhibitor on. These things happen."

"So this is your fault?" Clara asked him, a small smirk creeping at the corners of her lips and she kept her arms folded as she stared at her increasingly nervous husband. "Why am I not surprised?" He shifted at that. "Okay, I'll bite. When and where the hell are we? It smells familiar." She added it almost as an afterthought. It sounded weird. It sounded like…him. Something that he would say and sure enough, his face lit up when she said it.

"London," he informed her, throwing a lazy arm over her shoulder and stepping out of the dark alleyway, into the bright, evening sun. She blinked at the light adjustment and sure enough, it was modern day London. At least they weren't stuck on another planet or the Middle Ages. "2012."

"2012?" Clara groaned. "The year of the infamous fringe. So, where are we going?"

The Doctor looked confused at this. "Your flat of course!"

"My fl-… Doctor?" Clara groaned. "I didn't live in my flat in 2012, I lived with the Maitlands. We can't just pitch up and say oh hey past me, by the year, in a year or so you'll fall in love with a time traveller and get married and then end up stuck back in 2012 for a week!"

He looked slightly blank for a moment and then it twigged and he nodded. "Sorry, I get my years mixed up!" he laughed and waved it off, stopping for a moment and clearly doing some more mental maths. She suspected he was counting years in his head. "Aha, I know where we can go!"

She followed him through the streets of London and that in itself was a harrowing experience. He pickpocketed a map from a tourist, despite Clara's protestations that she had money and that they should pay for things. He used his psychic paper to get them onto the tube and commented about inefficient and useless a system it was for a good ten minutes as they rode and Clara desperately tried to shush him as they were getting awful looks. Once they were off the tube, he started complaining about other things whilst Clara silently hoped that wherever they were staying for the week had a pillow that she could smother either him or herself with. She was veering towards the former.

Eventually, they reached a small house in a London suburb. The Doctor looked very pleased with himself for finding it as he rapped on the door and Clara suddenly felt very nervous and self-conscious. She need not have worried, as the door opened and a plump man with a friendly face opened the door and grinned like an idiot when he saw the Doctor.

"Doctor!" he greeted, stepping out of the house to hug the Time Lord. He glanced at Clara and smiled warmly at her and stretching out a hand. "Hello! You must be the Doctor's companion. I'm Craig!"

"Clara!" she replied, shaking the outstretched hand. His smile was infectious and it immediately made her feel welcome. She nodded and waited for the Doctor to correct Craig and tell him that they were married.

"Yes, this is Clara, my companion." Her face darkened. "Clara, this is Craig. He's a friend. Listen, Craig, sorry to be a pain, but can Clara and I stay for a week? The TARDIS has kind of dropped us here. We can look after the baby whilst we're here and everything…" The Doctor frowned suddenly. "How old is Stormie?"

"Stormie?" Clara raised an eyebrow and Craig laughed.

"Alfie," he corrected the Doctor. "My son, Alfie, he's two. And of course you can stay, the spare room is free. You two don't mind sharing a bed do you?"

Clara was about to respond but the Doctor beat her to the punch.

"No," he waved it off cheerily. "We've shared a bed every night since the wedding because it's a human thing to do according to Clara."

Craig looked stunned, like someone had punched him in the gut as the Doctor strolled inside the house to go and find Craig's wife, whom it transpired was called Sophie. Clara felt awkward for a moment, standing on the doorstep with Craig who pointed after the Doctor and looked at Craig, his eyes narrowing.

"You two are married?" he asked, trying not to sound too disbelieving. Clara went red and nodded. "That's…not what I was expecting."

"Nor was I," Clara admitted with a small chuckle. "But you can't help who you fall in love with." Craig couldn't argue with that.

It didn't take them long to settle in, as they didn't exactly have much stuff. Clara always kept emergency supplies in her bag in case they ended up stuck somewhere for a while, so she had a few spare pairs of underwear and a couple of dresses, plus an emergency bow tie that she had needed to utilise on more than one occasion. But other than that, she didn't have much in the way of clothes. Not that she suspected the Doctor would ever change anyway. She always told him to throw his tweed in the wash but it was always her who did it, fishing the dirty, sodden suit out of the back of his wardrobe and having to listen to him whine for a whole day while it was in the wash. The first couple of times, he'd sat by the washing machine, almost whimpering until his jacket was clean and then he'd looked on it with awe and taken Clara upstairs to show her his gratitude.

In any case, it took them about ten minutes to unpack Clara's travel bag. More accurately, it took Clara ten minutes to unpack her bag whilst the Doctor 'tested the pliability of the bed springs' by jumping up and down on it like a child, smiling like a five year old when Clara handed him his toothbrush. She felt more like his mother than his wife at times. But then, she supposed he didn't have a mother. She was his friend, his lover, his carer and his soul mate, all rolled into one. She didn't know how this week was going to go, but she didn't begrudge him it. They'd not spent a week together in their house since their wedding day. They always told themselves that they would, sooner or later, but every single time they gave in. The lure of the TARDIS was too much for them, it became all too easy for them to slip into that box, promising themselves one trip and then returning a week later, bronzed and covered in goo and laughing hysterically about their latest adventure.

They headed back downstairs after bed-jumping and unpacking had taken place and Craig was bouncing little Alfie on his knee. Clara instantly thought that little Alfie was the cutest baby that she had ever seen and proceeded to tell Craig that, whilst Craig grinned like an idiot and the Doctor chatted to Alfie. Clara found it incredible how the Doctor could do that. He'd told her that he spoke baby but she'd always been fairly suspicious of his claim, even now that he appeared to be chatting away animatedly to the just turned two child. Craig and Clara shared a look and Clara giggled at that.

The evening passed pretty quickly, as Clara and the Doctor filled Craig in on their recent adventures whilst Sophie offered to put Alfie to bed. Clara was happy to let the Doctor do most of the talking, interjecting when he misremembered something that had happened, usually to try and underplay her role in something that had happened. The Doctor had a tendency to overstate Clara's effect on him. She rarely did much, he did all the legwork, whether he would admit to it or not.

The Doctor also insisted that Craig tell them about how things were with Sophie. The Doctor felt very different, so much calmer. It was odd. He had never been like this with her, but with Craig, he seemed to know what to say, when to say it. Not that he didn't have that ability with her, but so often when they were with other people, like her father or her friends, he'd say something wildly inappropriate and he rarely did that with Craig. And when it seemed like he had, it would click into place in the conversation and make sense to Clara.

They collapsed into bed just before midnight, Craig and Sophie on the other side of the house so they had no fear of being interrupted. Clara undressed quickly, stripping down to her underwear whilst the Doctor took a couple of minutes to get his bow tie off. She knew it was a deliberate tactic, as she loved it when he undressed her. She sighed and crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, the room dimly lit by a bedside lamp. She breathed deeply as she swept his tweed jacket from his shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

"You don't have to undress me you know," he insisted, the way his mischievous eyes lit up contradicted his words and she merely rolled her eyes, leaning closer to kiss his jaw and she could feel his hearts thudding against her as their chests brushed. She twanged his suspenders before pulling them gently off his shoulders. She started undoing the buttons of his shirt silently, trailing kisses down his chest as she did and then it too was falling to the floor. Her own heart was pounding like a jackhammer, he still had that effect on her.

"I love you," she whispered. He just smiled and nodded, kissing the top of her head and then wrapping his arms around her.

"I love you too Clara," he murmured. He pulled off his trousers and clambered into bed and Clara felt guilt rushing through her. They were in someone else's home, she shouldn't be trying to seduce him. It felt wrong. Dirty. Forbidden. The more Clara dwelled on it, the worse the feeling got. That mixture of pure guilt, overridden by the toying little devil on her shoulder. The risk, the fact that it was wrong, made her want him more, if that was even possible. She clambered into bed, trying to climb over him to reach the other side, her favoured right side, to the Doctor's left as he was sitting. He snaked an arm up out of nowhere as she crossed over him and Clara squeaked as he pulled her down on top of him. She bit back a smile and pounded his chest playfully as he kissed her.

"We shouldn't," she breathed.

"No," the Doctor agreed, sliding a finger down her knickers and making whatever protests she might have had about the place die in her throat. "We shouldn't."


	150. Going Domestic (Day 2)

***Sup troops! Another day and another part of the Going Domestic Prompt. Today, day 2 and misadventures in babysitting, relationship reminiscing and the Doctor on a normal day at home. I hope you guys enjoy, part 3 on its way soon! TPD***

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><p><strong>Day Two<strong>

Clara's eyelids fluttered open and she realised where she was. She felt guilt riddling her body but at the same time, she forced herself to relax. She was in her late-20s and married and she had just had sex with her husband. What on earth was she ashamed about? Granted, it had been in his friend's bed, but they'd done that before whilst drunk at parties, what made this any different? She removed her hand quickly from the Doctor's chest, as if this made the slightest bit of difference. She didn't move otherwise, she just stayed curled up to his body as she glanced at the clock by their bed. It told her that it was just gone 9am. It was Tuesday, they had arrived on the Monday. Craig had told her that Sophie would be gone for work before 8:30, but that he had the morning off, so he wasn't going into work until noon. The Doctor had already volunteered their services so Craig could call the babysitter and cancel. Craig was grateful for that much at least, although Clara strongly suspected that trusting the Doctor and a total stranger, even if Craig didn't make her feel that way, alone with the baby must mean that they had a pretty wretched babysitter.

Clara never wanted to get up when she was lying next to the Doctor. Every single morning was a perpetual struggle as she thought about lying here, his arm draped around her, the touch of his ribcage against hers, their legs just occasionally shifting, the scrape of skin against skin sending red flags to her brain, and that was all that she wanted. But no, the world had to deprive her of that privilege and she was forced to get up and leave the comfort and warmth that his arms gave her.

She was in no rush to go anywhere therefore. She was torn. She wanted him to wake up, so that he could hold her like he meant it. Even in his comatose state, he still did a good job of that, but he was even better when he wasn't drooling like a child. But if he did wake up, then that meant that they were one step closer to having to get up. Her hand had repositioned itself on his chest and was making patterns of its own accord. She scolded it silently and gave herself a little smile as she nestled back into position. She kissed his neck gently and closed her eyes, the rhythm of his hearts and the shallow breaths he was taking lulling her into a contented state.

She had almost fallen back asleep, impossibly, when the breathing grew less shallow and she could tell that the Doctor had woken up. She questioned whether her ability to tell his conscious state from his breathing patterns alone was weird, but dismissed it as this time, instead of fluttering, her eyes snapped open to meet his. The gold-flecked green stared into her muddy brown and she hadn't realised that she'd been smiling until he leaned forwards to kiss her and found that that was indeed the formation that her lips had taken.

"Morning," he greeted, propping himself up as Clara giggled at his hair. It always looked like a bird's nest at this time in the morning but nevertheless, she still found it amusing. Hers was no better, but she didn't care. She had long since realised that where the Doctor was concerned, boundaries never became a thing.

"Morning," she responded, leaning on her elbow. "It's gone 9," she admitted and the sadness must've shone through in her voice, because he took a moment to apologise with his eyes before groaning. "We need to get up," Clara sighed.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed. "We do."

"Stop doing that," Clara poked his chest and he frowned at her. "Coaxing me to not do things I need to do by using that stupid voice that you do, the one you know entices me."

"You're still thinking about last night?" the Doctor smirked, spitting onto his hand and using it to slick back his quiff. "Well if you're offering another round…"

She whacked him lightly and he jumped, like he'd been shot. "Oww!" he gestured with his hands, crawling away from Clara down the bed. "That hurt! I was joking!"

Clara rolled her eyes at his melodrama and climbed out of bed. At least once he was awake and functional, he was annoying enough that she could just about stand to crawl out of bed with him. It was half an hour later, having showered and dressed, when she entered the kitchen to see Craig sat at the table, the day's newspaper splayed out ahead of him, his left hand tickling Alfie, who was in his high chair next to Craig, absent-mindedly and his right hand being utilised to sip coffee.

"Morning!" Clara said cheerily, prompting Craig to look up and grin at her.

"Morning," he replied. "There's coffee in the pot or the kettle's just there if you prefer tea, mugs and stuff are in the top left cupboard. Clara set about making herself a cup of tea, removing tea, sugar and a mug from the cupboard. "Sleep well?"

Clara dropped the teaspoon she was using and hurried went to clean up the sugar as Craig went to stand. "Sorry," she blushed, sorting out the mess. "I just slipped. Yeah, we slept fine thanks. Thank you so much for letting us stay here."

"That's alright," Craig laughed and she was immediately suspicious that he knew more than he was letting on. He then let rip with a question that she suspected he'd been holding onto since they got there and was waiting for an opportunity to ask without the Doctor in the room. "So you and the Doctor, how does that even work?"

Clara contemplated the question. It was certainly a difficult one to answer. In truth, she didn't really know. The Doctor was so utterly alien at times that she was stunned that she even could understand him. And then there were times when he made perfect sense, times when he seemed so human to her. And in those times, it all felt so irrevocably easy. She simply shrugged and Craig raised an eyebrow.

"I don't even know," Clara admitted. "He's the Doctor, he doesn't come with an instruction manual." If only. "I don't really know how we work, we just do. Sometimes I feel like I've changed him, domesticated him and that makes me both happy and very sad and then sometimes…"

As if on cue the Doctor rushed in, fully dressed, although his hair was still wild and he was holding his sonic screwdriver up to a cat and glaring demonstrably at it, looking wildly about the place. His gaze lingered for a moment on Clara and his lips twitched into a smile at the sight of her and then he stared at Craig.

"You have a spy!" he announced, dropping the cat and sniffing, looking around, examining the cupboards. Clara sighed and turned to him gently, brushing off his jacket and pulling him close to her so she could reassure him.

"What's wrong now?" she teased, as the Doctor allowed her to straighten his wonky bow tie. The one he'd worn yesterday, her emergency one had been ignored, as per…

"There's sonic technology in the house!" the Doctor announced, his feathers ruffled. "Sonic technology identical to mine, I might add, somebody is up to no good and I need to find out who it is!"

"Doctor…" Clara interrupted in a sing song voice, smiling irrepressibly at this.

"Not now Clara!" he knocked her hands from his chest and rushed over to the back door, throwing it open and sticking his sonic out, sniffing the air and staring up at the sky, as if he expected to see something. "I need to see if there's a spaceship watching us. Maybe I can pinpoint the exact location of the…"

"Doctor!" Clara called again, her smile widening as she dove into the pocket of her dress.

"Clara please!" the Doctor turned back to her as she swung her sonic from her fingertips like a pendulum, smirking at him, putting all of her concentration into not giggling at the look on his face as Craig watched on bemused. "Ah. Yes. Well. I…this is…"

"How often does he do this?" Craig asked with a chuckle and Clara rolled her eyes.

"Usually about once a week," she smirked. "He's so used to me having this thing that he forgets that it occasionally shows up on his sonic radar and panics when he sees the technology. He keeps on claiming he's developing a patch for it, but he never does."

Craig laughed as the flustered Doctor sipped on Clara's tea and gagged as she giggled at him. "What, is that?" he asked, looking disgustedly at the tea.

"He does this as well," Clara commented. It was like giving Craig a running commentary on her life with the Doctor and she had to admit, she was enjoying it a lot. "He forgets that I take my tea sweeter than his and then complains when he drinks mine, as if any tea lying around has to be his. The self-entitled…"

"Well, where is my cup?" the Doctor demanded and then twigged. "I'm being rude aren't I?" Clara nodded. "Craig, would you like a cup of tea?"

"No thanks," Craig sipped on his coffee and turned back to his newspaper. "You two still alright to watch Alfie while I'm at work? Sophie will be back around 5."

"Quite alright," the Doctor informed him with a small salute. "Rest assured, no harm will come to Alfie whilst Clara and I are on the case…"

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><p>"Clara?" the Doctor called from the living room. "Have you seen Alfie?"<p>

She almost spat out her tea. She put the cups she had been about to carry in back down and raced into the living room, where the Doctor was on all fours, looking under sofas as if a two year old would fit underneath one like a grasshopper.

"What do you mean have I seen Alfie?" she demanded. "You were watching him! Where is he?" She should have known better than to trust the Doctor alone with a child, even for five minutes whilst she made them fresh cuppas.

"Well I don't know!" the Doctor snapped back, clearly agitated. "If I knew where he was, I wouldn't have asked you would I?"

"Can't you sonic him?" Clara asked, running a hand through her hair manically.

"It doesn't do babies!" the Doctor protested. "Look he can't have got very far, just help me look."

"How did you lose him in the first place?" she cried, as she raced into the room to follow the Doctor's lead and get down on all fours to look for Alfie.

"Well, I turned my back to fix the television," the Doctor informed her. "And when I looked back, he was gone."

In that moment, Clara made a vow never to have kids with the Doctor. After a few moments of frustration, she jumped back to her feet and ran for the door to check the stairs. She glanced up them and Alfie was nowhere to be seen. Surely he couldn't have gotten up them that quickly…he had to still be downstairs somewhere.

"Alfie!" she called, vaguely aware that the two-year old could probably understand her and respond. She heard a gurgling coming from the downstairs bathroom and swore under her breath as she legged it in that direction, to see Alfie sat in the toilet. She shrieked and the Doctor came haring in as Clara lifted the child out of the loo.

"Oh my God!" she screamed and then punched the Doctor as hard as she could with her free hand. "You let the baby climb into the toilet! Do you have any idea how unhealthy that is?!"

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond and she knew that it would be a snarky comment so she hit him again and he yelped in pain.

"Clara, I'm sorry okay!" he whined, looking like a forlorn puppy as Clara threw back her head in despair.

"Forget it!" she glared at him. "Just help me bathe him!"

"We need to bathe him?" the Doctor frowned. "He was just in water."

If looks could kill, the Doctor wouldn't have made it out the room alive.


	151. Going Domestic (Day 3)

***Hey troops, here's Day 3 of my: 'Clara and the Doctor go to stay with Craig and Sophie for a week' prompt. And it's a feelsy one, I really hope you like it nevertheless, as it picks up with Clara in a bad mood after Day 2 and the Doctor only makes things worse...Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was not being spoken to. Clara had refused to even look at him in bed the previous night and he had started sulking as a result. Naturally, they hadn't told Craig and Sophie about the mishap, but they had picked up on it at breakfast the next morning. Clara had jumped out of bed and was dressed before the Doctor was even awake. He came down for breakfast, still in his PJs and looking forlornly at Clara as she sat, devouring her bowl of cereal. Clara glared at him when he entered and Craig shot a hasty look between the two of them.<p>

"Is everything alright?" he asked nervously. Sophie looked up from feeding Alfie as the Doctor sidled in, making himself a cup of tea and eyeing up Clara warily.

"Fine, excellent, refulgent!" the Doctor replied, but without his usual lustre. Clara rolled her eyes and returned to her breakfast. "Everything's just peachy, isn't it Clara?"

"Peachy." Clara still didn't look up from her bowl, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Doctor and Craig both wince. She felt guilty. She didn't want to be a bad guest, so she smiled warmly at Craig. "Do you need me to watch Alfie again today?" She wanted to get a kick out of seeing the Doctor's reaction to that, but truthfully, when he recoiled like he'd been stung, she just felt worse.

"Um, if you don't mind," Craig replied, his eyes flitting between the Doctor and Clara. "We've both got to head off in about half an hour, we'll be back by 6…"

"Not a problem," Clara insisted, cooing gently to Alfie. "It's not as if I can leave the house anyway. I might run into myself and that would be problematic to say the least. Wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey," she explained when Craig frowned. The Doctor looked proud, so she shot him another look to wipe the smile off of his face. She didn't even know why she was so upset with him. It was an honest mistake.

And yet, she knew that she couldn't ignore him forever. Sophie and Craig headed off for work and Clara tried to act coldly towards the Time Lord, but he was a very difficult person to give the cold shoulder when trapped in close quarters. She managed to shoo him upstairs whilst she re-read Craig's written instructions and played gently with Alfie and his train set, but then he came back down and she knew that sooner or later, she was going to crack. And when she looked up and saw that he was wearing the emergency bow tie that he had packed for her, she did.

"Damn you," she muttered as she pulled him into a long drawn out hug, never taking her eyes off of Alfie for a moment. "Stop making me fall in love with you all over again."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor muttered. "My Clara. I didn't mean to let you down."

"You didn't," she lied as she broke the hug and sat back beside Alfie. "It's just…" She had had all morning to pick around with her feelings and in her heart; she knew what the problem was. "You lost Alfie. I left you alone for five minutes! And you lost him."

"So?" the Doctor shrugged as he sat beside her. "You know me Clara, I'm not exactly…"

"Say it," she frowned.

"Parent material. I was," he admitted. "Long ago. But I've lost my touch."

It was as if she'd punched him in the gut. Then he twisted the knife.

"Besides, it's not as if we need to worry about it. Alfie's not our kid or anything."

Clara was trying hard not to cry. They'd been married for three years and she'd never felt like this before. But now, hearing him say these things, suddenly she realised that she wanted kids. More than that. She wanted his kids. And that was what had pissed her off so much. Thinking about Alfie as her own child. And what would she do when the Doctor and she had kids. But now, here she was. And she wanted it. Wanted Alfie to be her child. Not in the sense that she wanted to pinch him, but in the sense that here they were, playing with a two-year old boy and Clara knew that she wanted one of her own. And her husband was not only alien, but obviously wasn't cut out to be a father.

"Yeah," Clara responded breezily. "You're right. I'm sure you'd be better at it if Alfie was ours."

"I'd do my best," the Doctor chuckled. "You know me."

That was not reassuring. The Doctor had taken to playing with his sonic, apparently working on that patch, whilst Clara focused all of her attention on Alfie, fighting the despairing urge rising within her. She was shaking slightly and all she wanted was for the Doctor to notice. But that was also the last thing she wanted. There was a very pregnant pause. And then he spoke.

"I'm sorry. I just don't know if it's possible."

"What?" Clara whipped round, her hair lashing at his cheeks as he looked at her with the most sincere eyes. "What's possible?"

"Clara," he said arrestingly and she stopped. She could feel tears coming to her and she leant into him as he held her, watching Alfie over her shoulder. "I know that this isn't what you want to hear, but I feel like I need to be straight with you. I don't know if we can have kids. The biology. It's…"

"Yeah," she murmured, her heart breaking into a million pieces. "Course. Stupid of me."

"No," he muttered, kissing her forehead and pulling her closer. "No you're not stupid. I wish I knew more. But Time Lord reproductive systems…"

"Stop talking," she whispered harshly. "Please."

So he did. She appreciated that. She could see them in her head. Her kids. One boy and one girl, with his eyes and her chocolate locks. The boy would be tall and the girl short and they'd love them so much. But she could see them slipping away from her, second by second and she couldn't hold back the tears anymore. She was sobbing in the Doctor's arms and he was helpless to stop it. Alfie made a gurgling noise and Clara sat up in alarm but the Doctor stroked her arm reassuringly.

"I'm not going to take my eyes off of him for a second," the Doctor promised and Clara found herself with no choice but to believe him. She slumped back into his embrace and went back to sobbing.


	152. Going Domestic (Day 4)

***Hello one and all! Day Four here. So the Doctor and Clara are staying with Craig and Sophie and after Clara takes a real body blow in Day Three, the Doctor tries to make things better. That's your lot for tonight I reckon, but check back tomorrow for Days Five and probably Six! TPD***

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><p><strong>Day Four<strong>

They decided to go out for dinner on Day Four. Or rather, Craig and Sophie insisted that after three whole days of watching over Alfie and dealing with their relationship problems (they had seen the state that Clara was in when they had gotten home the previous evening), that they treat themselves to an evening out. The day itself was rather dull and Clara still hadn't really recovered from the body blow of the day before. She didn't know why it had even affected her so much. She had always known in her heart that the chances of having a child with the Doctor were slim, but hearing him say it out loud had just made the realness of the whole situation crash onto her. So she carried on playing with baby Alfie, she looked after him as best she could, although the Doctor had got it into his head that he was going to be super helpful to make up for the previous few days.

Which of course, only made things worse. Clara would rather that the Doctor had just left her to it, because as much as she loved him and as in tune as they were, when he was trying too hard, everything seemed to go wrong. From changing his wet pants (Alfie's, not the Doctor's, although sometimes Clara wondered) to making cups of tea, everything seemed to go belly up when the Doctor got overzealous. Clara was exhausted, having stayed up half the night crying whilst the Doctor held her and his frantic, overly cheerful attempts to make her feel better only make her want to scream and tear her hair out.

"We can try?" he'd suggested, which of course, had gone down like a sack of potatoes. She'd shot him a look so foul he might as well have suggested genocide. Actually, she'd been a lot nicer to him when he'd been in the middle of genocide. This was far worse. Truthfully, Clara didn't know what she wanted. If the Doctor thought there was a chance, as he kept reiterating, having made things bad enough with his original statement, then maybe they could go for it. But at the same time, she wasn't sure she could put herself through that. Not knowing if there was a chance of it working, constantly getting her hopes up, only for them to inevitably fail. Was trying worth it?

So they went for dinner and Clara tried to feel better. They strolled arm in arm down the streets of London, keeping low in case they bumped into younger Clara. She picked a restaurant that she was sure that she had never been in before and ordered. She sipped her wine, the Doctor's cautious, loving eyes never leaving her and she sighed as he fiddled awkwardly with his bow tie.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" he protested innocently.

"Like I'm dying or something," she sulked. "I'll be fine Doctor."

"Oh Clara," he sighed. "My Clara. I just want you to be happy." The tension hung over them and then he said something that she knew he'd take back instantly if he could. "Do you want me to go?" The look she gave him said it all. "I just mean, if you want kids, then I could always…"

"Try and finish that sentence. I dare you."

He shut up instantly. Their food arrived moments later and Clara picked at it, frowning and feeling shitter than ever. She eventually looked up to see that the Doctor was still staring at her and she realised that she had to answer him or he'd carry on worrying.

"I don't want kids," she informed him and then was quickly forced to clarify by the look on his face. "I mean I don't want just anyone's kids. It's your kids that I want. Because you're the only person whose offspring I could imagine bringing into this world. I married you for a reason and that reason goes beyond simply wanting kids. It's because I love you more than anyone I've ever met in my entire life. We connect on every level and…" she stopped for a moment as a tear dropped onto her fork. "I don't know what I'd do if you left."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "For at least three more days."

She laughed at that and it felt good. It felt like the first time in eternity and she loved him for that, for being able to make her laugh when she needed it most. He was smiling across the table at her and she smiled back, before saying something that she knew was going to change everything.

"We'll try," she informed him. "It might be impossible, but so is everything else that we do."

"You're my Impossible Girl," he smirked. "If I can impregnate anyone, chances are, it'll be you. I can run some tests if you'd…" she shook her head.

"I don't want to know," she admitted. "I'd rather have the hope. If we can't, then at least I'd rather keep trying. At first, I thought that the hope might be the worst thing, and maybe it will be. But it's also the only thing I might have. The only thing we might have. So I'd rather keep it, torturous as that may seem. I'll stop taking the pill and once we're home…"

"Once we're home," he promised.

And that was that. The dinner seemed to go smoothly after that and Clara felt as though a great weight had been lifting from her shoulders, although the pit of her stomach was still a little shaky. Truthfully, she didn't know what she was going to do now, but she had the Doctor and they had…well they had each other. And that might have to be enough.


	153. Going Domestic (Day 5)

***Hello one and all! Day Five for you of our Domestic Whouffle extravaganza and the Doctor tries to solve Craig and Sophie's money woes whilst Clara contemplates her life with the Time Lord. I hope you guys like it! TPD***

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><p><strong>Day Five<strong>

Things were better on Friday morning. She woke up in bed with the Doctor, and the feeling that she didn't want to leave had returned. She snuggled up to him, her hair just tickling his rib cage and he shifted, smiling in his sleep and she felt her heart soar at that. She giggled despite herself and sighed contentedly. Her Doctor. She knew that this would be their last day of babysitting, which made her feel slightly sad though. They only had until Monday left and the weekend Craig and Sophie would be off work. Craig wasn't heading in until noon again, so they were allowed a lie in, which Clara appreciated. The Doctor was out like a light, feeling absolutely nothing as she ran her finger up and down his side. She felt content, by his side. She couldn't wait to be back in the TARDIS, travelling again, but also she couldn't wait to get home. To be working again, to be able to hear the stories of his day and have him listen to hers. Her dual life still picked at her, calling her in one direction and then the other, sometimes both at once. Not that that mattered, she and the Doctor would manage. They always had.

It felt odd, knowing that she had this balance. A house, a job, a life with the Doctor. A life that they abandoned on a regular basis to go and travel the cosmos. Any day, Coal Hill School might realise two teachers had vanished, or Dave would realise his daughter wasn't coming home, or Jack Harkness would knock on their door and get no answer. And that terrified her. But what terrified her more was the day when the Doctor turned to her and asked her if she fancied a trip and she turned him down. Because it would kill him.

That was the truth of it, their double life was one that they both loved and both needed, but it clawed at them in different ways. Clara knew him, knew that he wanted the TARDIS life more than the domestic one. But with him around, the domestic one was the one swaying her. The one clawing at her. Increasingly. And now, now that she wanted to try for kids…where would that leave their other life? Could she TARDIS travel pregnant? Would she TARDIS travel pregnant?

She was doing it already. Thinking about being pregnant. This was what she was afraid of. He didn't know if it was possible, biology might be against them. But here she was, imagining it already. She bit her lip and rolled over into him, the feeling of his body against hers reassuring her. He would know what to do. The best thing to do. They'd cross that bridge if they came to it. Clara wanted to be in her 60s, still popping off to save the world with him on weekends. That, at least, was an achievable goal. Something to aim for. Her Doctor. He'd still look twelve, the bastard. The scariest thought was that she'd outlive him. He was on his last life and she was on her only one. What if something happened to him and she had to fly herself home with the TARDIS's help? And she had to live in her big house alone, widowed? How could she possibly go back to work, knowing that he should be blowing up things in the classroom down the hall?

He stirred and she was swept from her thoughts, sitting up beside him. He blinked at her wearily and she gave him her biggest smile and her brightest eyes as she smoothed his wild hair out of his face.

"You really need to get it cut," she mumbled and he smiled at that, leaning up to kiss her forehead. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," he reassured her. "I woke up of my own accord." Liar. "Sleep okay?"

"Better than the previous night," Clara answered honestly, placing a hand on his chest and inching closer to him. This time, when he leaned up, his lips met hers and their tongues danced furiously for a moment before he fell back away from her. She followed him, straddling him and he looked at her in surprise. She could feel his member rising, pressing against the thinnest layers of fabric that separated them. "We have time," she insisted.

He grinned at that and she kissed him again, grinding down on him, her naked chest brushing against his and making them both shudder. He was already fumbling with his boxers whilst she pinged away her underwear. She went down on him again and this time he entered her, moaning softly as she gasped. It still felt like the first time they'd done it, so long ago now. Every experience gave her the same rush, the same unique feeling, like the world could stop around them.

They finished up and then showered and dressed, taking their sweet time about it. They then headed downstairs, where Craig and Sophie were arguing about something. Clara felt awkward, so hung back, but sure enough, the Doctor strode right inside and smiled warmly at them as he stuck the kettle on, Clara racing after him to get him out of the situation before he made things worse.

"I'm telling you Sophie…"

"Well I'm telling you Craig!" she interrupted, at which point, the Doctor intervened and Clara swore under her breath.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, putting a hand on both of their shoulders as Clara tugged on the back of his jacket to pull him away.

"Nothing, Doctor," Craig sighed. "It's just financial problems, nothing we can't work out on our own." The Doctor frowned as Clara tugged a little hard and he took a step back, removing his hands slowly. "Don't worry yourself about it."

But Clara knew the Doctor and he was going to worry. So, as soon as Craig and Sophie left the house, the Doctor started rifling through their drawers, looking for bank statements and the like. Clara had vocally offered her opinion that it was none of their business but she had been ignored, so she was left to look after baby Alfie whilst the Doctor poured over figures on the kitchen table, scratching his head at pay slips and bills, occasionally running a hand agitatedly through his hair.

"Can you say Auntie Clara?" she asked Alfie who nodded.

"Clawa!" he replied, clapping his little hands and Clara grinned. "Doctow, Clawa!"

"That's right, Doctor and Clara," she cooed, ruffling his hair gently.

"Doctow and Clawa like mwummy and daddy?" he asked and Clara giggled at that, setting Alfie off to giggle along with her.

"Yes, the Doctor and Clara are like mummy and daddy," she informed him. "And hopefully, someday soon, we'll have a little Alfie of our own," she smiled at the thought.

"Clara!" the Doctor came tumbling into the living room, catapulting over the sofa as she shrieked and pulled Alfie into her arms as he almost collided with the child as he landed. His hair was everywhere and he looked more like a mad scientist than ever. "I did it!"

"Did what? Fixed all their financial troubles?" Clara laughed. He looked deadly serious. "Oh my God, you did? How?" Clara's eyes bulged and he shrugged, tapping his brain.

"Simple Earth economics!" he informed her proudly. "And a little bit of cheating, but who's keeping score?"

"I believe you anointed me official scorekeeper?" Clara said smugly. "That's zero for you and fifty nine for cheating, plus six for me." He glared at her.

"Shut up, I'm amazing."

"That you are Doctor," she agreed, bouncing Alfie on her knee. "That you are."


	154. Going Domestic (Day 6)

***Hey troops, here's Day 6 for ya! Clara and the Doctor stay with Sophie and Craig and today: football! I hope you guys like it, please keep on sending them in! And thanks for your support! TPD***

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><p><strong>Day Six<strong>

"You're coming to play in the match, right Doctor?" Craig asked. Clara furrowed her eyebrows as the Doctor's face lit up and Sophie rolled her eyes. "It's just well…"

"Well what?" Clara looked at the Doctor. "Match? What match?"

"Football," the Doctor informed her. "I play football with Craig on occasion."

"Ha!" Clara snorted and everyone looked at her. "Sorry," she apologised. "It's just…you can't play football." Craig and Sophie were looking at her like she was insane. "Can you?"

"He's the best player I've ever seen," Craig admitted, whilst the Doctor shot Clara a smug look and Clara's eyebrows reached her hair line. She opened her mouth to say something clever but words failed her. "So, you're playing?"

"Definitely!" the Doctor grinned like a child and then turned to Clara, his big eyes imploring her. "You're coming to watch, right?"

"Of course," she spluttered. "I wouldn't miss this for the world!"

And that was how Clara found herself standing next to Sophie in the middle of a field on a chilly September afternoon, watching as the Doctor and Craig did their stretches and prepared for kick off. Clara was still a tad apprehensive, so she leaned in to talk to Sophie.

"Is he really that good?" she whispered and Sophie gave her a small chuckle.

"Amazing!" she informed Clara, who nodded and frowned. This should be something at least. She had once seen a younger version of him playing cricket and that had been an experience, so this would be too. Whilst she had been expecting the Doctor to be good, as Craig and Sophie seemed utterly convinced in his ability, when he dribbled past three players and blasted the ball in from range, she found herself screaming in delight along with all the other fans. The Doctor had taken her to see a few football matches before, but it was nothing like watching your own husband embarrassing grown men. Well, she saw that a lot too, but never like this. He wasn't even cheating.

He rushed over at half time, beaming like an idiot at her as she applauded him off the pitch. He pulled her into a long kiss and she squeaked before he released her, panting heavily, taking the offered energy drink off Craig.

"How did I do?" he asked enthusiastically. She could only nod and try to look impressed.

"You were great!" she laughed. "Amazing in fact. But I didn't say that. Your bloody ego!" she added with a hiss, before swatting him and then hugging him. "Why didn't you tell me you could play?"

He shrugged. "I'm over 1200 years old Clara, there are bound to be things you don't know about me. Besides, it's fun to keep you on your toes."

Then, he kissed her on the cheek and he was running back to join Craig and the others. The second half started and Clara found herself cheering again, but a sense of nervousness was building in her. There was a rather large looking bloke who had taken a dislike to the Doctor around the fifth time that the Doctor had nutmegged him. The bloke was increasingly playing dirtier and dirtier, going in for dangerous tackles that made Clara wince, tugging at the Doctor's shirt and pushing him whenever he could. Clara squeaked when the Doctor dodged another bad tackle but the guy was getting increasingly impatient.

The next run the Doctor made, all subtlety went out the window. The guy stepped across the Doctor and looked back before swinging out an arm. It was vicious, intended for one purpose only and Clara let out a noise as the Doctor couldn't duck fast enough and she heard the most sickening crunch. The referee blew his whistle and was already brandishing the red card, but Clara got there first. The guy was protesting his innocence and she shouted: "Oi!" to get his attention. As he turned towards her, her fist slammed like a piston into his face. The resulting noise, both from him and the crowd behind her, coupled with the spray of blood as he tumbled to the ground, made her feel a whole lot better.

She turned away from the collapsed jerk and knelt beside the Doctor, who had blood pouring from his nose as Craig and the other players converged. The Doctor was looking up at her stunned and she suddenly felt herself blushing.

"Problem?" she asked him with a smirk. The Doctor shook his head and got steadily to his feet as Craig and Clara helped him off the field. Sophie rushed over as the bloke that Clara had knocked flat on his arse was storming off the field as well as a substitute came on for the Doctor.

"Go back on the field and carry on Craig!" the Doctor insisted. "Clara has it from here!"

Craig shot him a reluctant look and then jogged back onto the field as Clara made sure the Doctor was stable, removing a tissue from her satchel and pressing it to his nose.

"Are you alright?" she asked earnestly, brushing his hair off his forehead. "Doctor?"

"Fine!" he insisted, looking up at her in adoration. "It's just…you moved so fast…"

"Yeah well," she blushed. "Instincts kicked in, you know? I was thinking that he was an armed gunman, or a psycho with a sword or…" she trailed off. "He still might be you know."

The Doctor chuckled at that as they sat back, watching the game continue. The guy that Clara had hit was sat on the other side of the field with his coach, shooting Clara daggers. She smiled warmly at the arsehole, before returning her attention to the Doctor's face.

The game was finished around ten minutes later and Craig was as full of concern as Clara for the Doctor as they walked home, the Doctor's face still streaked with blood. When they got back, Sophie and Craig fussed over the Doctor for a few more minutes until he went upstairs to run a bath and then they relinquished, as Clara followed him up the stairs. He was testing the temperature of the bath water as she sidled in and shut the bathroom door behind her, sliding the lock. His eyes widened and he grinned. He couldn't seem to get out of his football kit fast enough. Clara undressed herself equally quickly and then they were slipping into the hot water.

The feel of the water around her meant nothing compared to the touch of the Doctor's rough skin. He was like a drug, when she had him, she never wanted anything else. They were lying in the hot water, giggling like children as he breathed deeply and she pawed at his injured face affectionately.

"Only a couple more days," he whispered. "And we'll be back on the TARDIS. Where would you like to go? Lisbon? Ancient Greece? Home?" he said the last one tentatively.

"The future," Clara said firmly, smirking at him. "After a week of the domestic life, I'm not quite ready to crawl back into that big, fluffy bed that we have waiting for us."

His face lit up at that and he twirled as she squealed so that he was lying on top of her, their bodies pressed together with only a thin layer of water separating them.

"The future," he promised. "I know just the place."

Clara felt herself relax into him and ran her hand against his cheek.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too."


	155. Going Domestic (Day 7)

***Hello one and all. I meant to get the penultimate Domestic Day up yesterday but I had too much revision to do and then some casual drinks with my flatmates, because we rarely get to spend time together anymore because revision. Anyway, here it is! The Doctor and Clara are staying with Craig and Sophie and along the way, they have football injuries, harsh reality checks and cute conversations. I hope you like it. Keep on sending in your suggestions! TPD***

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><p><strong>Day Seven <strong>

The Doctor disliked Sundays. Always had, always would do. The majority of Sundays that they had spent together in their marriage had been spent on the TARDIS frantically travelling to any day that wasn't a Sunday. Clara loved to humour him, but in truth, she had a penchant for Sundays. It was a day to relax, to not let yourself get stressed out by anything and to avoid any sort of conflict. Which, when you travelled with the Doctor and lived as a school teacher, was nice to have occasionally. The problem was, the Doctor treated the teaching part of his life as the relaxing part. He was always so itching to go travelling and it was only when Clara would insist that she was exhausted that he would give in, because he loved her. Every time, she found herself questioning whether he would get in that box anyway, be back five minutes later, covered in soot and dust and tell her that he was ready to relax with her. But he never did. He always kicked up a small, mandatory fuss and then clambered into bed with her, pretending to sulk until she would snuggle up to him. It never took him long to give into her and snuggle back, stroking her hair lovingly and whispering sweet nothings to her.

So Clara wasn't quite sure what to expect this Sunday, when they didn't have the TARDIS available to them. She wasn't quite expecting to wake up in bed alone, with the Doctor nowhere to be seen and she certainly wasn't expecting breakfast in bed, which was what the Doctor brought her, arriving back in the room with a tray containing two bacon sandwiches and two cups of tea. She beamed at him and sat up as he plonked the tray in front of her and crawled back into bed alongside her, even though he was already dressed, bow tie and all. She bit into her sandwich as she budged up slightly to make room for him and then smidged closer to him so she could feel his hip against hers whilst she ate. The small contact made her feel better, even though in truth, she hadn't needed cheering up.

"Morning," she offered in between bites. "Thank you for the breakfast. It was…unexpected."

"I know," he grinned. "You're welcome. I made it for everyone, Craig and Sophie were touched, but apparently Stormageddon is too young for bacon so Craig had to pilfer his. Kids these days," he was smirking and Clara wasn't sure if he was joking. "Good morning Clara Oswald." He kissed her forehead and she nudged him gently with her shoulder as the small blush that always appeared when he kissed her crept up into her cheeks.

She ate quickly, so that when she was finished, she could snuggle up closer to the Doctor, not worrying about having to free her hands. She would have spent all day in his arms if she could, that was just the way that she felt, but they were summoned around noon by Craig and Sophie for Sunday lunch and an afternoon of board games. Clara strongly suspected that board games with the Doctor would be nothing short of a farce, but she was looking forward to it anyway.

Lunch was amazing, it was almost as if the Doctor himself had cooked it and Clara was quick to throw out the compliments, the smile on Sophie's face making Clara light up inside. As she had expected, board games turned out to be nothing short of farcical, with the Doctor either wiping the floor with everyone, or not understanding the rules of the game and throwing a temper tantrum. Team games were the worst. He and Clara were always on such a good wavelength, but she felt that it was impossible to communicate effectively with him in such a situation, as he had absolutely zero sense of popular culture.

Nevertheless, they ploughed on and it was well into the evening before they eventually called it a day, the Doctor annoyed at Clara for letting the side down whilst she rolled her eyes and called him unpleasant names under her breath. She offered to help Sophie tidy up and put Alfie to bed, leaving the Doctor and Craig alone to chat in the living room.

"So you're gone tomorrow?" Craig asked, almost sadly and the Doctor nodded, leaning back on the sofa next to Craig.

"The TARDIS should rematerialize twelve and a half miles from here in approximately 19 hours," he informed Craig matter-of-factly and then frowned. "It's been good to see you Craig. You're doing well, you and Sophie. You're happy. I like that. It's good that someone managed to avoid my…curse."

"Your curse?" Craig laughed. "Doctor, you're a great man, you're not a curse on anyone!"

"Yes I am," the Doctor replied, a sad smile on his face now. "Everyone I care about…well things never have ended well for them. Things with Clara…she's different. But it's just nice to see that not everything I touch…"

"Doctor," Craig insisted. "Without you, Sophie and I would probably never have gotten together at all. You not only brought us together, but you saved our lives. Twice. Probably more times than that, acting behind the scenes. And Clara…she's great for you. You two are so clearly in love and that's wonderful. You've not cursed her."

The Doctor's smile shifted into something genuine. "Well, she is perfect. Perfect for me. My Clara. She gives me hope. She gives me hope that maybe not everything has to be bad."

"She should," Craig smiled. "Who knows, maybe one day you'll be needing a babysitter of your own."

The Doctor's smile shifted back to sad again. Craig picked up on it and frowned but the Doctor tried to wave it off.

"Maybe," he replied. "Hopefully. It depends. Humans and Time Lords…"

"Oh you'll work it out," Craig laughed. "You'd be the best father in the whole world and with all that stuff you've seen, you'd be able to find a way to have a kid with Clara. You're the Doctor."

"Yes," the Doctor leant forward and nodded, his swagger returning. "You're right. I am the Doctor. And I will make Clara happy. Whatever it takes. Thank you Craig. For housing us…for the advice…" he clasped his hand over Craig's. "For everything."


	156. Going Domestic (Day 8)

***Hey guys! The final day of this week long Whouffle prompt, guest starring Craig, Sophie and Stormaggeddon has come to an end! I hope you guys have liked it, I've had a lot of fun writing it! I'll try to get some more up over the next few days, but no promises. I love you guys, keep sending your prompts in! TPD***

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><p><strong>Day Eight<strong>

There were only a matter of hours until Clara and the Doctor were to leave. The Doctor's promises to visit felt horribly hollow, knowing that Clara had never heard of Craig except in passing and that saddened her. It made her upset that someone who valued the Doctor as a friend was relegated to a footnote in his history. He hadn't even been invited to the wedding. When she had asked the Doctor why, the answer had been simple: "because he's happy." As if that explained anything. As if it ever could.

"If we have a son," the Doctor said suddenly as they were left watching baby Alfie for the last time. "We should call him Craig. Because…"

"Because he's happy," Clara answered, her hand finding the Doctor's. He smiled at her and nodded gracefully. "I get it. Sort of. Craig and Sophie are happy and you don't want to take that away from them. You think dropping in on them in the future will somehow impact negatively on their lives. But it won't."

"Won't it?" The question hung between them on a knife edge. "He's happy. If I can leave someone happy, in one piece and have the strength not to go back, then that's how it should be. Amy and Rory, I didn't have the strength to leave them and…"

"And they were happy," Clara put in, squeezing and the Doctor looked at her, his eyes watering.

"I got lucky," he insisted, frowning. "And maybe they were happy, but they lost everyone, their daughter, their friends, and their family, because of me. And there's no guarantee that they ended up happily ever after. And even if they did, that was still nothing to do with me."

"You're being hard on yourself…" Clara tried but he shook his head.

"No," he snapped and she recoiled slightly at his tone of voice. "No I'm not. If I was a better person, if I wasn't selfish and weak, they would still be alive."

"Stop it," Clara said quietly, her voice resonating as Alfie started gurgling unhappily. "You're upsetting Alfie." What she didn't say was written all over her face. 'And me.' He bit his lip and slumped down, silently playing with his screwdriver like his life depended on it. "You're the best person I've ever known."

"That's sweet of you to say Clara," he replied, his voice dull. "And you make me better, you really do. But I'm not the angel that you think I am."

"Don't patronise me!" her voice was barely above a whisper as she hissed at him angrily. "I've seen what you're capable of first hand. I'm not an idiot Doctor and I'm not naïve. I also know you. And you're the best man that there is. So stop moping. When we get home, we're inviting Craig and Sophie for dinner. And they're not going to die and the house won't get blown up and that's the end of it."

The Doctor looked at her in shock for a moment and then he smiled and crossed the distance between them to kiss the top of Clara's head.

"Thank you," he murmured. "My Impossible Girl."

"Any time," she informed him gently. "My Doctor. It's what I'm here for. I'm your wife."

And that was that. The Doctor seemed to be okay again after that and although Clara watched him like a hawk, it seemed like her little speech had snapped him out of whatever little slump he was undergoing. And the day seemed to fly by. Before they knew it, Sophie and Craig were home from work and they were ready to go.

"Thank you again for everything!" the Doctor lamented as he hugged Craig goodbye. Before Clara knew what was happening, Craig was pulling her into a crushing hug.

"Look after him," Craig whispered and Clara nodded, almost imperceptibly. She would always look after the Doctor; it was what she was born to do after all. She looked back at her fidgeting husband and smiled warmly at the mere sight of him.

"Can we go now?" he hissed at Clara. "She'll be waiting for us and she'll get very upset if we keep her waiting."

He could fool almost anyone. But not her. He was sad to be leaving, whether he'd admit it or not. He had had a lot of fun that week, but now that the TARDIS was back, it was over. As they clambered into the machine, the Doctor put on his most mischievous smile and turned to Clara.

"The future?" he asked with an inflection in his voice that told her the whole story. He needed to go. He needed to travel. He needed to put Craig and Sophie and Alfie and the whole of the last week from his mind forever, or he would never be able to cope. Clara responded with her own wicked grin, her eyes lighting up.

"You pick a year this time," she smirked. "I'm getting sick of it."

The TARDIS rattled off but they were both thinking the same thing. He couldn't forget. And he shouldn't. As the TARDIS landed, the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"I hate you," he muttered as they stepped out. Craig's house. The Doctor stepped forwards and knocked. Craig answered the door, a big smile on his face.

"Doctor!" he laughed. "Long time, no see! It's been what, five years?"

"Something like that," the Doctor laughed, smirking back at Clara. "We came to see if you fancied coming over for dinner…"


	157. Trapped on the TARDIS

***Hey all! I'm back! Here's another prompt for you guys, sent in by the amazing xandrota, I hope you like it. This one is from Craig's perspective as his parents force them to relocate to the TARDIS. Keep on sending them in! TPD***

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><p>It had happened on a Thursday. Craig knew that because Mummy had made fish-fingers for dinner. Mummy always made fish-fingers for dinner on a Thursday when she got home from work. She would pick Craig and Ellie up from school and get back home with a smile on her face and she would make fish-fingers for dinner. And when Daddy got in, as he always did just before Mummy finished cooking, he would ask her if she'd made custard and she always would, because Daddy loved fish-fingers and custard. Craig thought it was icky, but Ellie loved it. Ellie loved a lot of things Daddy loved. Craig didn't like that, it made him worry that Daddy loved Ellie more than him.<p>

Daddy came in just as he always did, only he looked upset and that made Craig worry. Daddy rarely looked upset, as he was always happy and laughing. Mummy and Ellie had also noticed, because Ellie piped up with: "What's wrong Dad?" and Mummy had already turned to look at him, asking: "Doctor?"

"Clara!" Daddy called. "TARDIS now, grab the kids."

"What?" Mummy hissed. "Now?"

"I'll explain when we're on board!" Daddy's voice went very low and he was only talking to Mummy now, so that Ellie and Craig couldn't overhear, but he still kept shooting them looks as if to check that they were still there.

"Can we ride on the TARDIS Mummy?" Craig asked excitedly. "Please, please, please?"

Mummy had gone pale and she looked like she normally looked right before she hit Daddy, but she didn't say anything and merely nodded. She crossed the room and scooped her five year old son up into her arms and Craig sniffled as he leaned into her.

"TARDIS!" Ellie cheered, running after her father as Mummy carried Craig out towards the blue box parked in the garden. Daddy slipped the key into the lock and they all stepped into the box, which was bigger on the inside. Craig had been allowed inside the box before, but never further than the big main room and they'd never taken off before.

"So are we staying on the TARDIS?" Craig asked his mother, who nodded.

"It looks that way Craig," she replied, biting her lip. She still looked like she was going to hit Daddy. "Just for a few days."

"Is this because of the temporal storm?" Ellie asked in a sing-song voice, earning her looks from Mummy and Daddy. Mummy was glaring at Daddy, so Craig buried his head into her shoulder.

"Where did you hear about that?" Mummy asked, and she sounded annoyed. She was looking at Daddy again, Craig could tell.

"It wasn't me!" Daddy protested.

"I read about it," Ellie replied matter-of-factly. "On the internet. It was on UNIT's website."

"UNIT doesn't have a website," Mummy said and she sounded really upset now.

"Did you hack the UNIT servers again?" Daddy groaned.

"The UNIT servers are silly!" Ellie sniffed. "They really shouldn't be so easy to enter."

"Doctor," Mummy hissed. "Your ten year old daughter just hacked the most secure network on the entire planet! What the…TARDIS are we going to do about this?"

"Congratulate her?" Daddy suggested. Mummy put Craig down to hit Daddy. "Okay, okay! Ellie, baby, you know you can't do that. You'll get Daddy into trouble. Again."

"Well I'm sorry Daddy," Ellie sighed condescendingly. "But they're silly. Their defences are silly. And I was bored at school."

Daddy was moving around the strange thing in the middle of the room, playing with it like it was a giant toy. Craig wanted to play with it to, but he could tell by the look on Mummy's face that that wasn't going to happen.

"Doctor, can you take Ellie to her room before we take off?" Mummy asked and she sounded like she might hit Daddy again.

"But Mum!" Ellie wailed. "I want to watch Daddy fly the TARDIS!"

"It couldn't hurt could it?" Daddy asked but judging by the look on Mummy's face, it could hurt. "Fine. Come on Jell Bell," he sighed, scooping a protesting Ellie up into his arms as Mummy picked up Craig again. They walked down a corridor and then Daddy and Ellie went into one room whilst Mummy took Craig into the other one.

"Mummy?" Craig asked as Mummy tucked him into bed and Mummy smiled at him and sat on the end of his bed. "What's going to happen?"

"Nothing sweetheart," Mummy said gently. "Daddy's going to fly the TARDIS and it'll be a little bit bumpy for a while, but then we'll all settle down and it'll be just like staying at home, only we won't be at home. Think of it like going to stay at Papa Dave's."

"Can you stay with me Mummy?" Craig asked. "If it's going to be bumpy?"

"Of course I can sweetie," Mummy replied with her best Mummy smile, which made Craig feel safe and sound. "Mummy's not going to go anywhere."

Mummy sat on the end of Craig's bed and took his hand, holding onto it when the bumping started. It was accompanied by a horrible noise that made Craig want to cover his ears, but Mummy smiled at the noise, as if she found it comforting.

"Don't worry about the noise," she said happily. "It's supposed to do that. It means that Daddy's doing it properly."

"Daddy won't let anything happen to us, will he?" Craig asked, slightly scared. If Mummy wasn't there beside him, he'd be terrified, but the presence of Mummy reassured him, made him feel safe.

"Your Daddy loves you so much," Mummy told him. "He's not going to let anything happen, I promise."

"Thanks Mummy," Craig said quietly. "I love you Mummy."

"I love you too sweetie," Mummy said, squeezing his hand. The bumping stopped. "Just let me check on your sister."

"Okay," Craig pulled a face as she stood up. "Hurry back Mummy."

"Of course I will sweetie," she promised and kissed his forehead. Mummy left the room, leaving the door ajar and Craig could see her going into Ellie's room through the crack. Then, he saw Mummy storming out the room and he heard her shouting.

"Doctor!" she yelled. "You had better not be letting our daughter watch you fly!"

"Mummy!" Craig heard Ellie calling. "Daddy's letting me fly her."

Mummy was definitely going to hit Daddy.


	158. Spiky Souffaldi

***Hey troops, one more before bed, and a bit of 12/Clara for you peeps. After the regeneration, things are tough between the Doctor and Clara, but will that all change when she overhears him talking to the TARDIS? Keep on sending them in! TPD***

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><p>The TARDIS was materialising. Clara felt the pain shooting into her stomach. She had almost grown to dread the arrival of that blue box. It wasn't that the travelling wasn't fun, it was as fun as it had ever been. But the Doctor…he'd changed. Her Doctor wasn't her Doctor anymore. He was something else entirely. Someone else entirely. And it hurt. She wasn't going to deny herself that. She had grown to love her madman, with his bow ties and his purple tweed and his ridiculous chin. But now? Now, she wasn't so sure anymore. He ignored her a lot of the time and when he did speak to her, their conversations were short and pointed. And she knew that she wasn't helping things, of course she wasn't. But she couldn't help it. She resented it. Resented him. Resented him for changing.<p>

So when she heard the box materialising, she almost didn't want to go in. But of course she did. Because as much as he had changed, as much as he wasn't her Doctor anymore, he was still the Doctor. And every now and then he would do something to remind her of that. He had an irrevocable hold on her, one that she couldn't resist as much as she tried. So she clambered to her feet, taking the stairs out of her apartment faster than she could have imagined that she ever would and she crashed into the TARDIS, opening the doors with a snap of her fingers. He was stood inside, waiting for her, but he didn't look up when she entered. She shut the doors behind her. Why did she still bother making the effort?

"Hey!" she said as warmly and cheerfully as she could manage, despite her irritation that he still hadn't even acknowledged her entrance.

"Hi," he said in his usual, dull tone. "Where to?"

"I don't know?" Clara laughed. "Surprise me."

"Okay, let's try the 1500s," he suggested, but his voice was that same, blunt tone. "Go get changed."

Clara bit her lip and wanted to storm out of the room. Instead, she crossed the room and put her hand on his arm. He flinched at the contact and shifted away and she felt her heart break all over again.

"Doctor…"

"Clara."

She shook her head. 1500s. Period clothes. She could manage that. If he was going to be an arse, she could at least enjoy her trip to the past. She was rummaging through the wardrobe when she saw him leaving the console room and moving into a smaller room. Frowning, she went to see what he was doing and froze just before she knocked on the door, as she heard him talking to himself, or maybe the TARDIS.

"What do I do?" he groaned. "I just don't know what to do, how to talk to her. I feel like everything I do just pushes her further away. I know that I can't be the man that she wants, that man is dead. I'm just so…"

Clara bit her lip. He was talking about her. Of course he was. Who else could he be talking about? River maybe?

"Clara is so beautiful and she deserves better than this old body. Maybe if I just keep acting this way, she'll decide to leave permanently and at least then she can be happy." The TARDIS bleeped in response. "I know but what am I supposed to say? Oh hey Clara, the only reason I've been so blunt and cold with you for months is because I don't know how to deal with my feelings for you because I think that you're better off without me?"

Clara threw open the door and he froze, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Clara…"

"Doctor," she said gently and stepped inside. The room was just another small bedroom and he had been talking to a TARDIS interface. Of course, the interface was her and it vanished when it saw Clara entering. Clara frowned at the Time Lord, who looked like a scared little boy, caught by his parents staying up past his bed time.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked bluntly, that horrible tone returning to his voice. Clara crossed the distance between them and reached up to touch his face.

"All of it."

"Clara," he sighed. "I…"

But he never got to finish. Her lips were on his, pulling him down to meet hers and he gasped a little as they connected, their mouths opening and closing in tandem. It was very different to what Clara had expected, but in a good way. In the best way. The Doctor was kissing her back, there was no doubt about that and in that moment, Clara realised that she didn't need him to be like his previous incarnation for her to love him. All she needed was for him to still be the Doctor. And he still was.


	159. The Phone Call

***Hey guys, I'll try and get a couple more up tomorrow night, but this is your lot for now. Anyway, this one is based on the phone call from Trenzalore that skirted about in about January. Anyway, hope you guys like it, keep sending them in :) TPD***

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><p>She stepped out of the TARDIS into an alleyway. They were back home, back in London, in Clara's time. She whipped around to see him watching her as her phone started to ring. She recognised the number instantly. How could she not? She could see that it wasn't the Doctor, because he was standing right there, right in front of her. She didn't want to answer, she almost couldn't bring herself to. Clara's arm was shaking slightly as she pressed accept and pressed the phone to her ear. She took a deep breath, her voice shuddering as she said:<p>

"Hello?"

"Clara?" the voice was strained, like it could break at any moment. But it was his. Her Doctor's. She almost threw the phone against the wall, she was literally shaking, a combination of rage and grief swirling within her like a maelstrom. But she couldn't do that. If these were his last words to her then she would have to cling to them like a lifeline.

"Doctor?" she sobbed, her own voice cracking, but for a different reason to him.

"I'm about to regenerate," he said flatly and she broke into tears, streams of salty water flowing down her cheeks whilst he just stood behind her, like a statue. He knew how this conversation went. He could remember it.

"I know," she didn't know what to say. There was so much that we wanted to say to him, but the words failed her. "I'm with you now."

"You still think it's me then?" he almost sounded hopeful and Clara didn't want to shatter that little blinking of hope, so she lied to him.

"Yep. Still you. Almost as if you've not changed at all."

She could feel the wince from the Doctor behind her. It was as if he had only just realised that she had been lying. He probably had. She felt bad for that at least.

"Good," the Doctor wheezed. "Listen Clara, before I go…"

"No!" she whimpered, unable to stop herself. "Please, don't go."

"I have to," he replied softly, and the gentleness in his voice broke her all over again. "Before I go, I just need you to know."

"Don't say it," she begged him. "Please don't say it. I don't think I can take you saying it, knowing that I'll never see you again."

"But you are seeing me," he implored her. "Clara. I love you. I really do love you. And I hope, I really hope, beyond anything else, that I still do. I hope that my love for you survives the change. Survives the regeneration. And I hope…gnargh!" he sounded pained and Clara squeaked. "I hope that you still love me."

And then the line went dead. Clara did throw the phone now, so that it shattered against the brick wall. Through the entire conversation, the Doctor had stood behind her, unmoving, as if awaiting his punishment.

"Clara?" he asked softly and she swivelled. He was the Doctor and he was around and she ran to him, burying her head in his chest. It felt odd, beyond odd. Not just the feel of him, the physical feeling, which in itself was so very different that it instantly felt strange. But it felt odd going to him for comfort, when it was him that she was mourning, in a roundabout way. "Clara, do you?"

"Do I?" she frowned for a moment and then her eyes widened as she looked up at his sad face. "I don't know," she answered honestly and he flinched at that, so she gave him a weak smile. "But there's only one way to find out."


	160. The Great Curator

***Hey troops, another one here for you guys! This one came on anon on tumblr, asking for Clara meeting the Curator of the museum, and for them to have a conversation. Quite a short one but I hope you like it anyway :) Keep on sending them in! TPD***

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><p>The three Doctors were walking slightly ahead of Clara as they followed the Gallifrey Falls painting back into its place in the Museum, leaving her to peruse the paintings on the walls. She was examining a rather broad painting, when she heard footsteps behind her, and she swirled to see an old man, smiling warmly at her. There was something in his smile and a look in his eyes that made her stop and question if she'd met him somewhere before. But if she had, she couldn't place where.<p>

"Hello!" he said in a deep voice. "You must be Clara Oswald!"

"Yep," she returned his smile nervously as he approached her and came to stand next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. It was a warm touch and she didn't feel the need for it to be retracted. "Who're you?"

"The Curator," he replied softly. "The Curator of this place. I'm the one who was…responsible for the Gallifrey falls painting."

"Oh!" Clara turned to him, and he still had that look in his eye, a look that she'd only seen in one person's eyes before. "Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked her voice low and intimate. She felt like she knew him, was connected to him somehow. But he merely chuckled at that and stepped in front of her, waving his cane at the painting.

"I shouldn't think so my dear," he replied. "This painting, what does it remind you of?"

"Umm," she frowned, confused by the question. "It's just a painting of London, isn't it?"

"Oh yes my dear," he nodded. "That it is, that it most certainly is. But do you see anything…unusual about it?"

"Nothing except…" Clara looked harder. She hadn't really been focusing on the painting, but now that she was, she could see what he was pointing at. A small, blue box, hidden amongst the buildings, with a dot of a figure beside it that she couldn't quite make out. She assumed it was the Doctor and turned back to the Curator.

"The Doctor?" she raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you know the Doctor?"

"In a matter of speaking," the Curator laughed and it was a rich laugh, a familiar laugh jangling around in Clara's head. She racked her brains, but maybe it was something from her previous lives. She couldn't quite pick it out.

"So what is it that you want from me?" Clara asked gently as he continued to look at her in that same, wonderful way.

"Nothing much my dear," he answered, walking away so she couldn't see his face. "I was hoping to speak with the Doctor, can you tell him for me? You're his companion, are you not?"

"Companion?" Clara smiled, getting to her feet and heading off after the Doctors. "Yeah, I guess I am. I'll let him know, thanks."

"And Clara?"

She turned back to see him looking at her with an odd expression on his face.

"Take care of him. And enjoy your time with him. Cherish it."

"Believe me," Clara nodded. "I thoroughly intend to."


	161. Telling Dave

***Hey all, might be one more up tonight, still unsure! In any case, here's some super sad Souffez. Dave gets a visit from the Doctor and his world is rocked to its very core. I hope you like it! Keep sending them in! TPD***

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><p>The final few steps were the hardest. Parking the TARDIS had been easy in comparison and he had never thought that he would manage that. It had taken him almost a month of flying, almost a month of flying about time and space, viciously avoiding 21st Century Earth, before he had to land. Because he saw her everywhere that he went. Over his shoulder, glaring at him, asking him the same question over and over again: "aren't you going to tell him?"<p>

He couldn't take it. He wouldn't take it. He had spent far too long, with that guilt driving him on. She was driving him on. Even now, she was stood there, by the TARDIS doors. She pointed at the doors. "You going out there then?" she asked sarcastically, glaring at him.

"Shut up Clara!" the Doctor shouted. "Get out of my head."

"I will," she promised, giving him the briefest of sad smiles. "Just as soon as you go and talk to him. You've been meaning to. I know you have. So unless you develop the balls to get out those doors and be honest, I'm going to stand here until you turn to dust."

He knew of course, that she would never leave. Even when he stepped out of the TARDIS, knocked on the front door and explained the situation, she would still be stood there when he got this. It would make no difference. Clara Oswald would never leave him alone. He punched the console and let out a scream. She didn't move.

"Please!" he screeched. "Just go. Just get out of my head."

"I can't," she replied simply. "Only you can do that."

"I'm sorry!" he yelled, as much to himself as to the ghostly rendition of Clara, amusedly watching him from the door. "I'm sorry that you died. I'm sorry that I wasn't fast enough, that you ended up there in the first place, okay? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"It's not me you need to apologise to," Clara sighed, pressing her thumb to the TARDIS door again. "It's him."

The Doctor took a deep breath in and kicked open the front door of the TARDIS. Even so, those final few steps were the hardest. Clara hadn't moved, she was still stood there, and as he left the TARDIS, the first of those last few traumatic movements, she didn't follow him. He looked back sadly at her, and then took another couple of steps. He was halfway to the front door now. Just a few more steps. But he froze. He couldn't do it. How was he supposed to explain? How could words possibly justify what had happened? Maybe, if he left, then Dave would spend the rest of his days with that glimmer of hope. He might think that one day, his daughter would come home. And was that hope not something he deserved? The Doctor could feel Clara's eyes boring into the back of his skull. No. Dave deserved the truth. The chance to grieve. Another step.

"Clara…" he whispered her name, to give him strength as he took the final step and knocked on the door. He straightened his bow tie, out of habit more than anything else and he left a shudder run through him as he realised that he would have to straighten his own bow ties from now on.

"Doctor?" Dave smiled, seemingly relieved when he saw the Time Lord and this just made the Doctor's urge to vomit rise. Dave looked over the Doctor's shoulder and he knew what Dave was looking for. "Where's Clara?"

The Doctor didn't answer. He didn't even know where to begin. He didn't know how to begin. How could one begin? But it must have been obvious what was coming from the look on his face, as Dave's own face twisted in a mask of horror and disbelief.

"No."

"Dave," the Doctor was shaking. "I'm sorry."

"No!"

"Dave, I wish that there was something…"

"No!" Dave said firmly. "You promised me that you'd bring her home safely."

"I promised myself that as well," the Doctor bit back a sob. "I guess I let us both down."

"What happened?"

"There was a fire," the Doctor started and found himself unable to stop once he had. "We were visiting a hospital on the planet Trexanor, perfect hospitals there, thought it would give her the best care imaginable. But there was a terrorist attack and we got separated. By the time I reached them…" The Doctor burst into tears.

"Them?" Dave's voice had turned hard as ice.

"She was pregnant," the Doctor admitted, seeing the look on Dave's face just made him angrier. "Clara was pregnant. She was carrying my child and that was why I took her to the hospital in the first place. "Dave, I wish that there was something I could say, something I could do…"

"Doctor," Dave said, staring right into his eyes, with a look on his face that would haunt the Doctor for the rest of his lives. "If I ever see you again," he promised. "I will kill you. So I suggest you leave, right now."

There was so much more that the Doctor wanted to say, had to say, but Dave simply pointed to the TARDIS, his arm shaking and the Doctor slunk back to his box, head down, unable to think of anything except how much he needed Clara in that moment. And when he stepped inside his box, there she was, exactly where he had left her.

"I thought you were going to leave me?" he snapped, not even sparing her a glance as he walked up to the console and flipped a few levers.

"Oh Doctor," Clara laughed. "I'm never going to leave you. We both know that."

He didn't respond, instead he just focused all of his attention onto taking off and he still didn't look at her as the TARDIS dematerialised and only then did he look up, straight at the spot where Clara had been just a few moments earlier.

"Geronimo," he whispered.


	162. The Impossible Decision

***Hey one and all. This is the last one for the night and it's a super special one, sent in by the amazing CountingAllTheStars who by the way, you guys absolutely have to go and have a gander at, her fanfiction is amazing. Anyway, this was the winner of a prompt competition I had over on tumblr and I hope you guys like it. Keep sending them in! ****Please don't I have over 25 and I'm on semi-hiatus as it is. **** TPD***

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><p>He didn't know what to do. For what felt like the first time in his very long life, the Doctor was faced with an impossible decision, and there was no way out. He could hear them coming. The UNIT soldiers. No doubt they had realised the same thing that he had. Only they would show none of his restraint. None of his reluctance. If he didn't act fast, there would be no decision to make. And maybe that was better. Maybe that was good. Maybe that way, he wouldn't have to berate himself every single day for the decision that he made. But, he wasn't going to let them take her away from him. His Clara. He ran for the door, sonicing it shut and leaving him alone in the control room. He heard them hammering away at the door as he thought long and hard. Ten minutes. They'd never get the door open in that time, it was sealed with reinforced concrete. He heard a slamming on the other side, followed by the panicked voice of Kate Lethbridge-Stewart.<p>

"Doctor!" she shouted. "Open this door!"

"You know I can't do that Kate," he replied dryly.

"Doctor!" Kate yelled. "The web of satellites is surrounding the planet and we are directly beneath the control satellite. If we fire a missile, directly upwards, into the control satellite, then the entire web loses its orbit, they all crash down to Earth. Nobody dies. Except the people on that control satellite. But the alternative is that they fire that weapon and all human life on this planet is wiped out."

"I know that," the Doctor snapped, losing his patience. "But Clara is on that control satellite. If I launch the missile…I'll be killing her."

"And if you don't launch that missile, you'll be killing everyone else!" Kate cried. "Doctor, how much is Clara Oswald worth to you?"

"Everything!" he roared, a noise that silenced Kate instantly. "She. Is. worth. Everything." He took a deep breath. "I will not let Clara die, there has to be another way. I still have eight minutes to work something out."

"Doctor, what about the TARDIS?" Kate tried desperately. "Can't you go and get Clara off the control satellite before the missile hits?"

"I don't have the TARDIS," he replied sullenly. "It's on one of the other satellites. No idea which one. I'd need to destroy the entire web to get the TARDIS to crash back down to Earth and the only way to do that is to destroy the control satellite. There's no way to get Clara off of it in time." He paced the room, ignoring any more of Kate's shouting. Clara or the Earth. It should have been an easy choice; he knew what Clara would want him to do. But then, if it was the other way round, if it was the Doctor or the Earth, would she be so quick to answer? He shook his head. Of course she would be. She was Clara, she wouldn't hesitate to blow him out of the sky if it meant saving the planet. Her father.

"Clara?" he asked softly, as if she could hear him. "What would you have me do?"

He crossed to the console. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to do this without her. He flipped a few switches, sonicing the console and then he turned to the door.

"Kate," he said with a sigh. "I've encrypted the console, you won't be able to access it. On that basis, I'm going to open the door, because I need your phone."

"Doctor…"

"Please, Kate!" he begged and he could hear her pausing.

"Okay, Doctor, just me, just the phone."

He soniced the door and Kate entered, hands in the air to show she was unarmed. He shut it behind her and then she handed him the phone that he had requested. He took a deep breath and dialled Clara's number.

"Doctor?"

"Clara!" he had never been more relieved to hear her voice. Six minutes. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she replied breathlessly. "They're holding me captive up here though."

"Is there any way for you to escape?" the Doctor asked quickly, glancing at Kate. "Preferably involving you being back on Earth inside the next five minutes?"

"None that I can see," Clara's voice sounded panicked. "Doctor, what's happening?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair. There was a pause and then:

"Doctor, you're scaring me."

"Doctor…"

"Shut up Kate. Listen, Clara, the only way to stop the satellites ending all life on Earth, is to blow it up. Blow up the satellite. The satellite that…"

"That I'm currently on board?"

The silence hung between them for a moment and the Doctor didn't answer her, couldn't answer her, until she eventually said: "Well do it then."

"Clara…"

"Don't waste time saying goodbye!" her voice had broken and the Doctor could tell that she was struggling to keep it together. "This isn't about me. This is about all the lives that you'll save. What was the promise you made?"

"Never cruel or cowardly," he recited softly, even though he knew that she knew it.

"So fucking stop being a coward and blow up the damned satellite."

"Clara…"

"No!" she shouted and he froze on the spot. "No, I will not have that blood on your hands. Not for me. This isn't about me. If I wasn't up here, you'd have already blown it out the sky so do it already."

"My hands," the Doctor said softly. "You said my hands, not your hands. Would you be able to live with yourself if I saved you?"

There was a pregnant pause. "You want me to say that I could. But I'm not going to do that Doctor. Because the real question is, would you be able to live with yourself? You are the Doctor. You save people, that's what you do. So save the planet. And when you're running you clever boy…well you know, just remember me."

"Clara!"

But she'd already hung up the phone. The Doctor looked at the controls. Two minutes. He heard a gun cock and didn't need to glance at Kate to know that it was millimetres from his forehead.

"Really Kate?" he asked dryly. "You're really going to do it this way?"

"Blow up that satellite Doctor," she warned. "Or I will take you with us. If humanity is going to die, then so is the man who condemned us."

"Kate, put the gun down," the Doctor warned. "You know that I'll do what is necessary."

"You mean…"

The Doctor sighed. "I'll do what I have to do."

Kate lowered the gun. The Doctor sat forwards and started pressing switches. He only had one more button to press and the Earth was saved, but Clara was dead. "Goodbye, Clara Oswald," he muttered and then he pushed the button. Kate breathed a sigh of relief, but the Doctor didn't, as the missile flew up, higher and higher. The Doctor couldn't watch. But the missile kept on going, past its target. It kept on flying, missing the satellite entirely and Kate swore. The Doctor turned to her as the gun was back in his face.

"Kate," he promised. "I don't know what happened. I set the co-ordinates right, I know that I did. Maybe they have a jamming sequence, or a…"

"Fire another missile," Kate warned him. "Now."

And then she turned to dust. The Doctor cursed and turned back to the console. He punched it furiously, but it was too late. The phone was ringing and he answered it. It was Clara.

"Doctor!" she screamed. "What's happening? The aliens on here, they're cheering."

"Clara," he shook his head. "I failed."

How was this possible? He'd put the co-ordinates in right, he knew that he had. Hadn't he? There was no way that he had done it wrong. They must have been jamming his signal, or moved slightly, they must've overheard his phone call to Clara. That must have been it. They must have found a way to trick him. There was absolutely no way he had filled in the coordinates wrong. Was there?

"The web…"

"It'll collapse naturally," the Doctor informed her, his voice neutral. "The TARDIS should fall safely down to Earth. I'll lock onto your position and come and get you."

"But Doctor," she breathed. "Earth…humanity…"

"I'm sorry Clara." The Doctor turned away from Kate and opened the door with his sonic. There were no guards out there. They had all been turned to dust, same as Kate. The web had locked onto humanity and stopped it in its tracks. "There is no more humanity."


	163. The End of the Universe

***Hey guys! It's been a while since I posted, because it's been a while since I've written any prompts. The good news, is that after this next week, which shall be dogshite, I'll get some more up on a semi-regular basis for a week or so. The other good news is that my new AU, Everybody Dies, is ahead of schedule. I've got nearly 5 chapters completed and I'm hoping to start posting chapters for it every day from June 7th (3 weeks today) onwards. **

**Anyway, new prompt. This one came in over on tumblr (follow me at whoufflemachine) and it involves 12/Clara going to the end of the universe and seeing Four and Romana II there. With over 30 prompts in the shed, plus I entered a prompt thing that starts the day exams finish (June 9th,get in), there's plenty to look forward to...once I've finished exams... TPD***

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><p>The Doctor was sat on the edge of the TARDIS, staring out at the sunset, as Clara raced over. Well sunset wasn't quite accurate, more total event collapse. Clara was holding two beers in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other, handing one bottle to the Doctor, who nodded appreciatively as she snuggled up beside him, legs dangling into what was left of space, balancing the popcorn between her thighs, mainly so that whenever the Doctor wanted a piece, he ended up brushing her leg on the way to or from grabbing some, which made Clara shudder with anticipation. They chinked beers and Clara sipped hers gratefully, as the Doctor's thumb brushed the top of her thigh slowly and deliberately and she giggled to herself, struggling to glare at him as he threw popcorn up in the air, catching it in his mouth.<p>

"What's that?" Clara murmured, pointing across the broken horizon towards something moving in the distance. The Doctor lowered his beer, frowning slightly and then a look of realisation came onto his face and he chuckled, the lowness and harshness of his new laughter still startling Clara on occasion. She swept her hair onto one shoulder and shovelled some popcorn into her mouth as she stared at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"It's me," he informed her and Clara nearly choked on her popcorn. He patted her back gently as she swigged from her beer bottle to clear her throat. "Well me in my 4th body. I'm with…Romana I think…in her… 2nd incarnation."

"You've been here before?" Clara's eyebrow rose. "You're going to need to do better than this Kidneys…"

"I wish you'd stop calling me that," the Doctor grumbled, running a hand through his shock of white hair agitatedly. "And anyway, would you like to meet another me?"

"Why not?" Clara murmured sarcastically. "It's not as if you don't cross your timeline every other week nowadays, I'm sure the time stream can take it."

The Doctor ignored her mutterings and finished his beer, hurling it into the end of the universe and eliciting a giggle from Clara, who did the same.

"We're littering the end of time and space itself," she pointed out and the Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, his smile sending specks of joy to Clara's heart as he flipped a few switches, shooting her knowing looks every now and then. She knew she shouldn't place so much stock in those fleeting glances, but they really made her feel better about his changing, the little moments that just reminded her how he was still the same man inside, and that he still cared for her more than words could say. And when he smiled, a rich, genuine smile that totally lit up his face, it meant so much to her, knowing that he rarely smiled anymore. He was not the bumbling, friendly person that his last face had been. Except with Clara.

"Here we go!" he told her, his Scottish lilt penetrating the silence that had held between them as Clara ran back to the doors and looked out to see another blue box, warping closer and closer to them. Clara vaguely recognised the man with the crazy scarf, but the girl beside him, clutching a Rolo, like it was the last Rolo in existence, was unknown to her.

"Hang on," the Doctor muttered. "Stealth mode."

Clara heard the TARDIS fighting against whatever they were doing, a few explosions cannoning off the various consoles and she heard the Doctor grumbling under his breath. She waved to the past Doctor, but he couldn't see her, he was merely laughing and joking with his companion, an arm wrapped loosely around her. Clara smiled and turned back to her Doctor, who had given up trying to fight the TARDIS as the previous TARDIS drifted further and further away from them, until the Doctor and Romana were merely a blip on the event horizon of the universe.

"Sorry," she heard the Doctor's mumbled apology. "Someone went a bit stroppy on me!"

"It's alright," Clara replied gently. "So that was you then? Who's Romana?"

"Time Lady that I travelled with for a time," the Doctor waved his hand nonchalantly. "A friend, a very very good friend."

"Ooh," Clara teased. "Two verys? How many will I get when I'm gone I wonder?"

"Clara Oswald," the Doctor said softly, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head before staring intently into her eyes. "You will get all of the verys."

"All of the verys?" Clara smirked lovingly.

"At least three or four," he confirmed.

Clara leaned in to nuzzle his chest and in that moment, it felt like the farthest thing in the world from the end of her universe.


	164. The Paranoid Husband

***Hey guys! Another day, another exam, another prompt to celebrate not failing my exam. I hope you guys like it! I'd say keep sending them in but maybe hold off for about a month or so? For me? I love you guys :) TPD***

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><p>This was getting ridiculous, Clara decided, as the Doctor soniced open the bathroom door, staring down at her naked body as she relaxed in the hot water.<p>

"What is it love?" she asked calmly, feeling her blood pressure rise slightly at his presence.

"I had my ear pressed to the door and I didn't hear you breathing!" he gasped, panicked. "I was worried that you might have drowned…or…"

"Doctor," Clara said softly, trying to keep her temper in check as this was the third time he'd burst into the bathroom in the space of twenty minutes. "I told you the last two times. I'm fine and I just want a nice long soak, without having to babysit you. Can you please, please, please, just go downstairs and make dinner?"

"But what if…"

"Go!" Clara tried to laugh but it was hard. He was getting worse, increasingly exasperating to the point where Clara just wanted to lock herself in the TARDIS and let it take her away. Ever since the moment the previous week where Clara had stepped out onto the road without looking and the Doctor had had to pull her out of the way of an incoming bus, he had been an absolute nightmare to deal with. She knew that it was her own stupid fault for stepping in front of that damned bus, but nevertheless, he didn't need to check on her all day every day. She could count at least five occasions where he had thundered into her classroom, despairing because she hadn't texted him back when he'd asked. How he kept his job at the school was beyond Clara, she could only imagine how much weight that he was putting on this Ian Chesterton person.

Clara started whistling as he left the room. She disliked whistling in general, but if it would convince her insane husband that she hadn't drowned in the twenty seconds that he had been out of the room, ear pressed to the door, and if as a result, she got some peace and quiet, then it was worth it.

She slumped back, letting her whistling cease slightly, as she felt herself drift off. Peace and quiet at last. She enjoyed a good few minutes, before the water was getting lukewarm and her skin was starting to peel and Clara was feeling sufficiently calm that she felt it was time to get out. As she clambered to her feet, her foot slipped on the slippery bath tub floor and she felt herself careering backwards. There was a loud crack and Clara saw black and red, swirling together. She was woozy, everything hurt and she couldn't breathe. The black and red were being punctuated by a light in the distance and Clara tried to inhale, tried to keep herself going, but found only water entering her lungs. She wanted to panic, needed to panic, but the water filling her lungs and the blow to her head made panic just out of reach, to the point where she wasn't even sure if she was conscious anymore, or if she was even still alive. She was just floating towards the light on a sea of black and red.

And then, she heard it. A beacon from above her. A name, a name echoing, being shouted like a lifeline to her. Her name. The Doctor was shouting her name. How sweet. She wanted to respond, but she was pretty sure that she was drowning and that her was mouth was already open.

Clara woke with a start as she was wrenched from the water, coughing and spluttering. The Doctor was still wearing his suit, but he was soaked and he had a look on his face like he had almost lost the most precious thing in the universe. Oh…

"That's it!" he stood, pacing agitatedly. "I am never letting you out of my sight, ever again!"

Clara almost wished he'd let her drown.


	165. Theatre Trip

***Hey guys! Quick and cheeky prompt for you now, coming in over on tumblr. I'll probably be able to get another one up tomorrow, here's hoping! Anyway, Clara and the Doctor take a trip to the theatre with Clara's family and the Doctor is being all Doctor-like. I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>Just once, Clara wished that he would be cool. He had materialised at her house an hour early, dressed in purple tweed like usual, a broad smile on his face as he embraced her. The Doctor was her best friend. More than that, she felt like she knew him better than anyone and she couldn't help but love him to bits. The idea to meet her family hadn't been either of theirs in truth. She'd told him that she was going to the theatre to see The Phantom of the Opera and he had insisted on coming along. Once she had mentioned that her dad, grandmother and Linda were all coming, he'd not changed his mind, nor had she stopped him. But now, with her family due to arrive any moment and the Doctor having almost set her kitchen on fire whilst making a cup of tea, she was starting to get worried.<p>

"Just be normal?" she all but begged him. "Please?"

"Clara!" he sounded offended. "I can be normal. Staggeringly normal!"

She highly doubted that and shifted closer to him, wrapping her hand around his protectively. Then, the buzzer rang and she jumped and made for the door, dragging the Doctor along behind her. It was them alright, her father, gran and Linda. The Doctor slicked back his quiff and straightened his bow tie as she threw open the door.

"Hello the Oswalds!" he cheered, earning him a kick from Clara as she hugged her dad and then her gran. "I'm the Doctor!"

Handshaking took place and for one, bright shining second, Clara thought that he might be normal. Then, something in his pocket beeped and Clara suspected that all hope was lost. He plucked out a box-like device, which was glowing slightly and Clara glared at it, then at him. He grabbed her hand and this earned him a look from her father.

"Clara!" he informed her. "I don't mean to alarm you, but there's a high chance one of your family is a cyborg."

"That'll be my gran's metal hip, now would you _put that away!?" _she hissed angrily, slapping his arms down as they got odd looks and she smiled. "I want them to like you!"

"Why wouldn't they like me?" the Doctor asked, cocking his head in a confused manner. Clara wanted to hit him. So much. He pulled out his sonic and started scanning things and Clara let out a noise halfway between a scream and a groan, a high-pitched squeak that made him turn the sonic on her. "Are you alright?" he asked softly and her eye twitched slightly as she kicked him, her entire family watching on bemused. "No aliens or cyborgs here, by the way. You're welcome."

"Why don't we head off?" Clara asked, her voice higher than usual and the glare she was shooting the Doctor was nothing short venomous. "It'll be starting soon."

The Doctor started talking about the first time that he had seen Phantom of the Opera to them as they walked towards the theatre. Then, it transpired that having seen it, he went to meet the author and Clara could see the conversation veering towards dangerous territory and she was forced to elbow him in the groin when he started talking about how he had inspired the author to write the novel in the first place.

"No talk of time travel!" she scolded and the Doctor rolled his eyes.

At least when they were in the theatre and the play started, Clara could position herself strategically between the Doctor and her family and he would shut up for a while. But he didn't. He talked animatedly throughout and kept on going as Clara wanted to ram her head against a wall. They exited the theatre for the interval and she gave him a pound and told him to go over to a vending machine and get a snack.

"He's very…enthusiastic," her dad noted, a pained look on his face.

"Yes!" Clara agreed, slightly hysterically. "He is, just one giant child, my Doctor."

"He's odd," Linda said, wrinkling her nose. "I don't like him."

"Well it's a good thing that I do," Clara replied, an edge developing to her voice. "And that I don't value your opinion enough to let what you think ruin him for me."

"Clara!" she heard him shouting. She twirled round and smacked a hand to her forehead in despair. The Doctor's arm was stuck in the vending machine, his other arm frantically grappling his jacket. "Can you help?"

"One second!" she said to her family, Linda's incredulous look making Clara want to punch her stupid face almost as much as she wanted to punch the Doctor's. She rushed over to where the Doctor was floundering and she delved a hand into his pocket to reach his sonic for him. She placed it into his free hand and left him to detach himself. He re-joined the party a minute or so later, tens of packets of sweets in his arms, a huge grin on his face. Linda huffed, her gran giggled, her dad looked flummoxed and Clara couldn't help but smile as she took a pack off of him and ripped it open.

She allowed herself to relax slightly in the second half of the play, until the Doctor started jumping up and down, shouting with about five minutes to go. Just when she thought that her evening couldn't get any worse, it was over. However, as they got up to leave and strolled down the steps, she heard the Doctor shout her name and she was taken off of her feet as he bundled into her, sending her tumbling, him on top of her. She groaned in pain and shoved him off roughly, sitting up and glaring furiously.

Then she saw the spotlight that had dislodged. If the Doctor hadn't bundled into her, she would have been killed. She looked at him and he shrugged, picking himself up and dusting himself down, before a moment later, Clara's father was pulling the Doctor into a hug.

"You saved my baby!" he gasped. "Doctor! Thank you so much!"

"It's quite alright," the Doctor shrugged. "I wasn't about to let anything happen to Clara."

Late that night, when the rest of her family had gone, and it was just Clara and the Doctor left, she turned to him as he was about to go.

"You didn't dislodge that spotlight did you?" she accused. "On purpose?"

"Clara!" he huffed. "I'm offended you'd suggest such a thing!" He winked at her. "But you wanted your family to like me. Now they do."

Clara giggled at that and before he stepped out the door, she leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Goodnight Doctor."

"Goodnight Clara Oswald."


	166. Paper Boy

***Hey guys, my last exam for a couple of weeks is on Saturday, so I'll try to get a bit more done after that :) My new AU is going superbly, 7 chapters in and my wonderful beta assures me that they're up to scratch. In any case, here's a cute little teenage AU prompt where the Doctor is Clara's paper boy and he has the biggest crush on her to keep you ticking over. I hope you like it. TPD* **

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><p>John Smith did his paper round every Tuesday and Thursday mornings before school. He got up super early and dropped off the papers before returning home to change into his school uniform, scarper down some toast and jump on the bus. He did it for two reasons. Firstly, it was good to earn a little extra cash, as his parents didn't have a lot of money to spend on him. But secondly, they were the only times in the week that he got to see the cute girl with the brown pigtails that went to the all-girl school.<p>

When he slipped her paper through the door, he'd glance at her bedroom window, perfectly situated on the ground floor. She'd always be awake when he got there, normally already dressed in her uniform, hair up in pigtails as every Tuesday and every Thursday. And she'd give him a little wave and a little smile when she saw him and John would wave and smile back and then he'd deliver her paper and their little moment would be over and he would have to wait until the next Tuesday or the next Thursday to see her again.

As the months and years flew by, the girl grew and John grew, until he was sixteen years old and still pandering after the girl he exchanged a wave and a smile with twice a week when he delivered her paper. He wasn't even sure that he needed the money anymore, he just liked being able to see her and wave at her and see her wonderful smile and her cute little wave, and her increasingly revealing uniform and her long, luscious hair, still tied into those same pigtails.

Until, one morning, as John was delivering her paper, he looked in her window and saw the girl, that bright, happy girl, dressed in her PJs, her long hair falling over her face and she was sat up against her bedroom door, sobbing into her hands. Her window was wide open and John paused slightly. He knocked quietly on the window. She looked up and she stared at him for a moment in sheer horror, tears still streaming down her face. And then she did something that he had never expected her to do. She beckoned him in.

This was a moment that John had both been waiting for and dreading for a very long time. He took a deep breath and then he climbed in, through her open window, into the bedroom that he had examined every inch of from the outside over the years, but never stepped foot into, until now. His heart was thumping at a million miles an hour, as he was but inches away from the beautiful girl with the pigtails that he had had a crush on for what seemed like his entire life. He crossed the room tentatively and deposited the papers he'd been carrying on her bed, before sitting down beside her nervously.

She almost threw herself onto him. She swept her hands around him and pressed her legs against him and buried her head into his shoulder, tears still leaving her at an incredible rate of knots. John didn't really know what to do or what to say, so he awkwardly placed his hand on her shoulder, wrapping it around her carefully and then he stroked the back of her head with his other hand. It felt both incredibly weird and incredibly cosy at the same time. They'd never said a word to each other in their entire lives, but here they were, cuddled up together, her crying onto him and it felt both so very right and so very odd in the same moment.

Neither of them said anything for a very long time. They were both inevitably going to be late for school and John could hear the girl's father getting increasingly agitated on the other side of the door, but eventually he left and they were alone. It was only when they were alone that she finally removed her face from his sleeve, staring at him with her big, red-rimmed doe eyes.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed.

"Don't be," John said gently. "I'm John."

"Clara," she replied, bringing her hand up to wipe her nose, sweeping loose strands of hair off of her forehead. "I mean, this must be really weird. I mean you've been my paper boy for years now and I wonder if you even remember I exist…"

"Remember?" he laughed and she frowned at him. "You're the only reason I do this job."

"Oh." She had gone pink and she hid her face behind a sheet of hair. "I feel silly."

"Why?" he asked her softly, bringing a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, causing her to blush even more. "Why are you sad?"

Apparently, asking the question was a bad move, because she started crying silently at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at him, clearly trying to put into words exactly what was going on that could be so terrible.

So she didn't say anything, she just slipped back into his arms. He held her softly, as there was this unspoken bond between them that neither of them had realised was there until this moment. John looked at Clara and Clara looked back at John.

"Will you stay with me?" she sniffed. "I'm all alone now. My mum, she…" Clara trailed off.

"I'll stay," he promised. "As long as you need me to."

And that was how John Smith and Clara Oswald became best friends.


	167. Shooting Star

***Hey guys, there are going to be an absolute thunderstorm of prompts coming this week, as I finish exams tomorrow and am going to go a tiny bit mental catching up, as well as posting those for DW fest. Shall we say 50 before this time next week? Sounds good to me! Anyway, my semi-hiatus has been temporarily broken, by the wonderful CountingAllTheStars whose prompt bitch I am... This one is about a shooting star :) TPD***

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><p>They were lying on the cool, wet grass, staring up at the sky. It was a cold, Wednesday night, technically Thursday morning, because it was gone midnight, although neither of them had spared even a second to think about the time. Clara was watching the twinkling of the stars above them. It was a clear night and she could hear the Doctor beside her, telling her the names of every star that he could see, but she was blocking out the sound of his voice, focusing on other things. The feeling of his fingertips, gently moving over her palm, which still after all of these years, had the ability to make her heart skip several beats. She focused on the shining above her, each star a gem against the night sky. She was feeling the grass that pricked into the back of her neck, droplets of water just tickling the ends of her hair and she focused on breathing in, which was becoming harder and harder to do with every passing day. She glanced at the old man beside her, who had given her everything that he'd had left and it hadn't been enough. He sounded sad, she realised, as the words fell from his mouth and when he changed the topic slightly, she realised why.<p>

"We missed one," he muttered and she felt his fingers stop moving, so she brought hers up gently to wrap around them. "We missed one," he choked and Clara felt herself tearing up as she remembered a day, ten years previous, when they'd realised that they wouldn't live forever. Well, she wouldn't live forever. He could die any time that he wanted to. But he wasn't. He was holding it in, keeping himself alive, for her. So that he could remain her Doctor until there was no Clara left to have a Doctor. On that day, they had promised to see every star in the sky before she died. And that day was all but upon them.

"We still have time," Clara coughed, but it was a half-hearted appeal. She could barely stand, the sounds of the TARDIS ringing in her ears made her feel dizzy and weak and as gentle as the Doctor could be, the bumpiness was always too much for her. They both knew that they didn't have any more time left. They weren't even dealing in days anymore, they were dealing in hours. The Doctor had done everything that he could, but Clara's skin was wrinkled and decaying, her internal organs were running on empty and the stars in the sky that she was staring at were but a distant memory.

"No we don't," the Doctor grumbled, choosing to let anger overwhelm his upset. He'd been doing that a lot recently, shouting at their kids and their grandkids, shouting at anyone who came near him, shouting at himself. Shouting at anyone but Clara, who he couldn't bear to hurt, knowing that they had so little time left together. "Atronso Hertorli, that's the one we missed. Damn, I knew we missed one, I can't believe I did this to us. I'm so sorry Clara…"

"Don't," she said, her voice old and frail, but the crack in it wasn't due to that. "Don't do this to yourself. We had the best of times, the best of runs. Let's not devalue it by thinking that there's more that we could have done."

"But there was," he snapped back, angrier at himself than her. "There's always more. I can think of a million and one things that I wanted to do with you, still want to do with you. And I…"

"You're going to change," she said brutally, never one to deny the reality of things. "And I'm going to die."

"And when I change," he murmured. "I don't know if I'll love you less. And I don't know if it's better or worse if I did."

"Is it going to hurt you?" she whispered, the thought that had been plaguing her for her whole life.

"The regeneration?" he asked and then laughed, a hollow sound, echoing in the silent night air. "Not nearly as much as losing you will."

"I'll still be with you," Clara told him, moving her soft, wrinkled hand up to touch his chest. "In there."

"Well that's not enough," he breathed. "It's never going to be enough."

There was a moment of complete silence between them, as Clara tried to think of something to say. Something that would comfort him. But there was nothing. No words left. They had done this dance a million and one times and now they were at the end of it. She turned back to the sky, because at least that was still there, would always be there, unlike her. They'd come to this spot every year for fifty years and the sky was still the sky. Clara wasn't going to be Clara much longer and the Doctor wouldn't be hers anymore. But the sky would still be the sky when they were both gone. She spotted a shooting star and found the Doctor's hand.

"Make a wish," she whispered. She knew what it was, knew what his wish would be. He didn't need to tell her. She could see by the way that he looked at her, the look of hunger. He wanted one more night, just one. That was what he had wished for. Just a little more time. He wasn't asking for the world, he wasn't asking for fifty more years, he was just asking for death to give Clara one more day. She sighed and pulled herself unsteadily to her feet, shuddering as she struggled to walk, the Doctor, so much younger and more sprightly than her, even though it had been a lifetime for him, had his arm around her instantly and he voiced the thought that she had known he would voice.

"Clara, what are you doing?"

"We…have…one more star…to visit!" she breathed heavily, staggering slightly and the Doctor was looking at her pleadingly. "If this is it Doctor," she fumbled over her words, every single one was one she might never get the chance to say to him again. "Then we're going to complete the list."

And when she woke up the next morning and was still alive, was still feeling like she could go on, she realised something. That occasionally, wishes came true. Even if it was only for one more night under the stars.


	168. Best Friends

***Hey there guys, only a matter of hours until I'm completely free, so I thought I'd sling you today's Doctor Who fest prompt a little early. Expect one a day for two weeks and this one is titled 'Best Friends', featuring 12 and Clara! TPD***

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><p>The question always hung over them. It didn't matter where they went, which time zone, which planet, or which country. They could be lounging on the beach in Ancient Egypt, he could be visiting her at school in 2014 or they could be on a space station a thousand or more years into the future. And it was never phrased the same way either, people always changed the way that the question was asked, always the same probing, judgemental tone, with the hint of disgust as they absorbed the intimate body language. The way that he touched her arm, the way that she snuggled into him, the way that she laughed at him and the way that he smiled when she did. All asking the same question in actuality, no matter how they phrased it: 'Isn't he a bit old for you?'<p>

Things had been so much easier in his previous body. He had been able to hold her hand, touch her face, touch her hair, kiss her anywhere that he pleased, without having to fend off the disgusted looks. She could be his wife, his girlfriend, his anything that she wanted to be. They'd get away with brother and sister, no they were far too intimate for that, but then, they never wanted to play that role anyway.

But now? Now, the perfect role was father and daughter and the Doctor refused. She hadn't suggested it either, which suggested that she felt the same reluctance. That was the first question people tended to ask, if she was his daughter, to which the looks on both of their faces told its own story. But they couldn't pull the husband and wife story in most places that they went, so they had to get creative. And that was where they failed, time and time again. Her students would ask who he was when he popped in and he would see her stammer and stutter as she thought of an answer that was both socially acceptable and one she felt comfortable with. And then he would interject with an unhelpful suggestion. Eventually, they always ended up settling on the same half-truth. "We're best friends."

And then they would be in the TARDIS. And life would be amazing. She would be jumping about and laughing and they could make soufflés and the Doctor would smile and she would lean in so close that he could smell the dashes of vanilla, he was inhaling the flour that was flecked on the tip of her nose and then her lips would meet his and his old body would feel young and alive. He could almost imagine the bow tie he used to wear and the flippy hair that he used to have and he would gasp as they broke apart. And then they would land, goodness knows where, and the act would be back up. The mask of social acceptability that only went so far. The man at the front desk of the hotel that they were entering turned to the Doctor and asked: 'Separate rooms for you and your daughter Sir?'

And the Doctor couldn't go along with it. He loved her too much. So instead, he would smile at the man and answer politely, with only half the truth: "Actually we'll be sharing a room. We're best friends."

Clara hated it. She didn't hate that he was older, that his body was harder to touch or that his kisses were rougher and harsher. She didn't hate that he was a lot brasher now or that he often swore, which he had never done before Trenzalore. It was still him and she had grown to love those little traits of his, the same way that she had loved his bow ties and his floppy hair and his love of fezzes. They were just quirks, they were just window dressing, a small price to pay for keeping the man that she loved alive. And the man that she loved was still alive, was still himself, under the older, colder exterior, his passion for her burned as brightly and she felt as safe in his arms as she ever had. If anything, she had come to love him more than she had before, which at the time of his change, she'd never thought possible.

No, what she hated was the way people treated them now. She could never take him to see her family, because she knew what they would say. It had only been six months since the crazy naked Swede at Christmas, even for her it had been a lifetime and they would never accept, never understand. Whenever he showed up at her work, the same stinging questions about an elderly relative always pitched up. Father, uncle, grandfather, great-uncle. She tried not to let it show how much she wanted to be violently sick at the very notion, considering what she had been doing to him, but there was a definite abrasiveness regarding her when the subject came up. How could she say that this was the man she loved, the man that she was travelling the universe with, the man that she was going to spend the rest of her life with?

The truth was, she couldn't. But she couldn't bring herself to say the lies, to let people think that he was nothing but family to her, as he was so much more. She needed people to understand, to at least appreciate to some extent the intimate connection that they shared. Not least because it was obvious on her face every time that she looked at him. The adoration in her body language, her giggling, the touching, the tentative but caring kisses. And when someone looked at her, passive-aggressively noting the age gap between them, she wanted to hit them so hard that they fell over, wipe the smug looks off of their faces. But instead, she smiled, grasped his hand and explained he was her best friend. As if that covered it. As if those two little words could express the way that she felt when he touched her, the electric feeling lighting up her extremities when he pressed his palm to the small of her back, or when his lips brushed hers. But they couldn't say the truth, so they stuck with half of it. And when her students, her friends, some aliens from the future or people from the past asked, she gave them her best, most winning smile and explained their relationship the only way that Clara knew how, hoping that it would be enough.

"We're best friends."


	169. Enemies

***Hey guys, so this one is for DW fest over on tumblr and the prompt was: 'Enemies', which once again I managed to take and add a little twist to. So here is some cute and fluffy post-Transitions Whouffle guest-staring little Ellie. Keep on sending them in, prompt season is coming. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had faced many foes over the centuries, across time and space. But never any quite like this before. Clara was livid, absolutely livid and he was worried about what she would do if he didn't go with her to keep her calm. They'd been called into Ellie's school because she'd been in a fight. They had been on their lunch break when the call came through and when Clara had answered it, she had grabbed the Doctor and frogmarched him out of the secondary school and into the TARDIS. He had pointed out that Ellie's school was in walking distance, but Clara had merely given him a pointed look and he'd obeyed.<p>

"Mummy!" Ellie called when she saw her. "Daddy!" she added, her face lighting up when she saw the Doctor. She bundled into her parents legs, moving surprisingly quickly for a seven year old. Clara winced slightly and the Doctor could see why. Ellie's face was swollen, the area around her left eye bruised and purple and hair was tangled, like someone had been yanking on it. Her knees were grazed and bloody and she was covered in mud. The Doctor could sense a Clara Oswald explosion imminent, so he picked up his daughter instinctively, wrapping his arms around her as he kissed her forehead.

"Daddy," she said excitedly. "I made an enemy."

The Doctor could practically hear Clara's blood boiling, so he tried to place a calming hand on her shoulder, but he didn't have a free hand, so used his foot instead and ended up kicking her. Clara scowled at him and the Doctor tried not to panic.

"You made a what sweetheart?" the Doctor asked nervously.

"I made an enemy just like Daddy!" she cheered, like it was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Clara's eye twitched dangerously. "Jimmy, the boy from my class who eats his own boogies, was picking on little Susie, so I told him to stop and when he didn't, I hit him over the head with a chair, just like you would have done! And then we had a fight."

The Doctor burst out laughing and he was certain that Clara would have thumped him if he didn't have their daughter in his arms. She had a murderous glint in her eyes that she only reserved for special occasions. He was in deep trouble, he knew that, but he wasn't the only one. Clara was going to unleash hellfire on whoever she blamed for this, whether it be the school, the boy's parents or the Doctor. It would probably end up being him. It usually ended up being him.

The Doctor didn't dare say anything to Ellie, as he was certain that anything that he did say would be held against him by the court of Clara Oswald, who was already watching him like a hawk.

"Mr and Mrs Oswald?" Ellie's teacher sounded tired, like she'd already had to deal with one set of pissed off parents and couldn't be dealing with another set. The Doctor was sure that she had died a little inside when she had seen the fire in Clara's eyes. "I'm Miss Harvey, I'm Ellie's teacher. Now Ellie's behaviour is pretty serious, as I'm sure you're aware, being teachers yourselves…"

The Doctor was frantically making stopping notions as Ellie wheeled around to glare at her teacher, squirming in the Doctor's arms. He desperately wanted to take his daughter away from the conversation, but he knew that leaving Clara alone with Miss Harvey would not be a wise move.

"As a teacher myself," Clara said, her voice ice cold and even Ellie winced slightly at her mother's voice, burying her face back into her father's chest. "I would ensure that incidents such as this one didn't take place. I don't allow bullying in my classroom and I did, I would be concerned that one of my students felt that they had no other option but to defend their pupil."

"Mrs Oswald," Miss Harvey replied, her own voice kicking up an octave. "Regardless of Ellie's motivations, her behaviour was completely disproportionate to the situation and warrants further punishment. She's shown violent tendencies and what I can only describe as a hero complex. She wants to save the world."

The Doctor hugged his daughter closer to his chest and they exchanged a high-five that didn't go unnoticed by Clara, who looked like she was torn between yelling at her husband and child and yelling at Miss Harvey. She opted for the latter.

"My daughter," Clara said in a tone that meant nobody was going to argue with her. "Is going to save the world. And the last thing she needs is teachers telling her that there's something wrong with wanting to try. Ellie has a good heart and she never does things without good reason. So I suggest that you think about punishing the bullying little brat that started this mess, rather than my daughter, regardless of which one ended up with a concussion. Good day, Miss Harvey. My daughter can sit in on my class for the rest of the day, she might actually learn something about being a good person."

"Mrs Oswald," Miss Harvey interjected, but Clara had already turned on her hips and walked past the Doctor. Ellie blew Miss Harvey a raspberry and the Doctor scurried off before he got yelled at in Clara's stead, Ellie snuggled up into a ball in his chest.

"Did Mummy make an enemy too?" Ellie asked with a small smile. "Is she going to help me fill balloons with paint and throw them at Miss Harvey?"

"I think Mummy made an enemy too," the Doctor agreed with a smile. "And Mummy and Daddy are very proud of you sweetie. We will always be there to paint bomb your enemies."


	170. Seasons

***Hey guys, I know I promised prompts this week but I've been caught working on Everybody Dies (which I've nearly finished) and reading City of Heavenly Fire (which I have finished). Tomorrow I'll probably knock off at least half a dozen. Anyway, here's todays DW Fest prompt, which I almost didn't post here because I didn't find it engaging and it's far from my best work. But hey, I hope you guys like it anyway. TPD***

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><p>Autumn was Clara's favourite time of year. The leaves were turning colour, just becoming fresh shades of red, orange and brown, so that when she walked to walk, she was surrounded on all sides by a flurry of colour, trees of all different shapes and sizes shedding their innards onto her. It was truly beautiful. She also loved the wind, the way it kicked about, playing with her hair and clothes in a gentle manner. She was reminded of the way her parents met and it made her smile to think about. But one of her favourite things about autumn was that it meant going back to school.<p>

Summer was great and all, but there was nothing quite like settling back into a routine, settling back into the classroom. Not only did she love teaching, but it made her feel normal. The summer was always hectic, always chaos filled. She would hop into the TARDIS and they would lose track of time, end up skipping back and forth frantically, to the point where August became an insane blur. It would be the 23rd one day, then the 7th another and before she knew it, neither her nor the Doctor had been home in two weeks and her father was kicking the Doctor hard and angrily for it. When she had married the Doctor, Dave had insisted that they call at least once every two weeks to let him know that they were okay. This rule got very mixed up in August.

But when September and October rolled around, they would settle. They would sneak out to the TARDIS all the time, but the days were at least under her control. And the stories that came floating into the classroom were the best. The Doctor was always doing stupid things in his physics class and Clara loved hearing the other teachers interrogate him about them.

Her life was pretty perfect when the autumn rolled around. She could spend her days teaching, her evenings with the Doctor and whenever she could on board the TARDIS. It had been a few years, but everything fell into place in autumn.

In contrast, Clara Oswald had always hated spring. Spring was always bittersweet. It rained far too often, it was always far too cold, the remnants of winter just washing over her. She spent half her life asking the Doctor to take her away in the TARDIS to somewhere warm and sunny, somewhere where she could forget March or April even existed. April was the Easter holidays anyway, which meant that Clara didn't have to worry about school.

It was also exam season, which usually kicked into gear near the end of May. The Doctor never bothered with the paperwork side of teaching and Clara had no idea how he kept getting away it.

And of course, the real reason that Clara Oswald hated spring was obvious. It reminded her of her mother. The smell of soufflés, the scent of flowers blossoming, the fierce, hounding rain reminding her of when she was little and terrified and her mum would tuck her in. Not to mention, the anniversary of her death, all of which contributed. For Clara Oswald, spring was hell.

But the thing about spring, it became summer. All of a sudden, it was June and then July, and before Clara knew it, she was running again and the world had been left behind and then, almost before she knew it, it was autumn again.

Seasons were a funny thing.


	171. Hugs and Kisses

***Prompt steam ahead! Let's do this thing! I have finished Everybody Dies and I promise, the ending is not a happy one. To compensate for the psychological damage I caused my beta, here's some cute, fluffy Whouffle from DW fest day 4. I'm planning on smashing prompts over the next week or so, then working on a multi-Doctor sequel to Transitions next week! I hope you guys like them! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had always been more touchy feely when it came to Clara. From the day that they met, there was hand-holding, lots of hand-holding. That was nothing new. But the hugging, so much hugging. The hugs felt nice, he concluded, really nice. Clara was a good, responsive hugger. But there was more than just hugging going on. This regeneration had always been intimate and to an extent handsy, but when he was with Clara, this was ramped up to eleven. He kissed her everywhere he could, her hands, her forehead, the top of her head, every touch, every gesticulation feeling natural to him and he could see by the way she never recoiled, by her small smiles and her minute blushes that she always thought that the Doctor hadn't spotted.<p>

After Trenzalore, things had only gotten better; the Doctor had felt himself drifting closer and closer to Clara. The hugs lasted longer and more frequent, the kisses were in new places and she was kissing him back. When she kissed him on the side of the lips after saving Gallifrey, the Doctor felt a flutter in his heart. He couldn't wait to see her again, couldn't wait until the following Wednesday and with every Wednesday that followed, he found himself growing more and more attached to Clara. The hugging was spinning, they did spinning hugs and every time she saw him, she seemed more excited to see him. They'd fling themselves into each other's arms and spin and laugh and pepper each other with kisses. And then, the day of the dimension jumpers, or as the Doctor would always remember it, the day he got together with Clara Oswald.

After that, the hugging and kissing seemed to increase exponentially, coupled with other things. The Doctor had been around the block a time of two, he had picked up a few tricks, but, if he was being honest, he still preferred the hugging and kissing. Now, nearly six months on, he woke up and glanced beside him, where Clara was cuddled up to him. She had her arms around his bare waist, just above his boxers, her body pressed firmly into his. He shifted slightly away from her, giving himself the space to roll over so that he could wrap his arms around Clara, snuggling up close to her.

"I love you," he murmured, kissing the top of her soft hair. She stirred below him and he nuzzled her gently. Clara's eyes blinked open and she smiled up at him.

"I love you too," she whispered, knowing what he had said, whether she was awake or not. She leaned up and their lips met. She always tasted of chocolate first thing in the morning and he never knew why. Her tongue darted into his mouth and he returned the gesture, their lips falling together and then apart again and then she was pressing her head into his bare chest.

"How long until we have to get up?" she asked softly. The Doctor glanced at the clock.

"We have at least an hour," he murmured. "Let's just snuggle some more."

So that's exactly what they did. They hugged and kissed and held hands. Because holding hands was the key and the Doctor didn't ever want to stop.


	172. Newly Wed Show

***Hey guys, this one came in on tumblr. I don't know if anyone's seen the Newly Wed Show (I haven't) but from what I can gather, it seems that they ask Newly Wed Couples questions about each other and watch the relationships either flourish or crash and burn...anyway I hope you like this one. More on the way! TPD***

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><p>"I cannot believe you!" Clara screamed, stalking out of the studio towards the TARDIS, the Doctor racing to catch up with her frantically until she whipped round to poke a finger at his chest and he flinched as he almost ran into her. "I cannot believe you Doctor."<p>

"Me?" he protested. "This whole stupid thing is your fault."

"My fault?" Clara snapped and he seemed to freeze at that. "It was my dad's idea to go on The Newly-Wed Show, you just agreed to it."

"Exactly!" he pouted and she raised an eyebrow threateningly. "Look we can argue all day about whose parent screwed us over, but you didn't get a single question right in there Clara. How could you not know my favourite colour?"

"How?" Clara retorted. "Could your favourite colour, not be blue? How? It's the colour of your TARDIS, it's the colour you wanted us to paint our bedroom, it's the colour of half of your bow ties. You love blue. I thought it was an easy one."

"Well you should know me better than that," he shot back.

"I should know you better?" Clara rounded on him furiously. "You thought that my middle name was Oswin! Again!"

"Your middle name is Oswin!" he protested. "Or at least it was…you can't blame me for getting me confused. And what do you mean our first time doing the whoopee was in your apartment?"

"Our first time having sex!" Clara shouted the word to enjoy his flinch. "We're not on the show anymore Doctor, we don't need to say whoopee. And it was in my apartment, dumb arse, not at Asgard, wherever the hell Asgard is, I thought Asgard was where Thor was from? You've never taken me to Asgard."

He froze, doing mental calculations. "You're quite right, I haven't. My bad on that one, but you couldn't even tell the studio announcer my name."

"I don't know your fucking name!" Clara shrieked in despair, throwing her head into her hands as she reached the TARDIS and clicked the doors open. "You didn't tell me it, you dipshit. Which, by the way, looks so good on television, I'm sure that the world at large is clamouring for our divorce. I have…twenty texts Doctor, twenty. At least three people asking if my middle name is fucking Oswin, where the hell did you even get Oswin from anyway?"

"Echo," he mumbled and she shot him a look of fury.

"Whatever happened to: 'oh you're the only Clara for me Clara, the echoes are nothing'?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growled and Clara bit her lip.

"Nothing," she pulled back. "I just mean, you got me confused with an echo."

"No," he replied fiercely. "I got your name confused with an echo, which I suppose isn't a whole lot better is it?" he sighed, slumping on the seat inside the TARDIS, as Clara turned to look at him. "You're right, of course. I'm…sorry."

Hearing him apologise was a rare thing nowadays. They'd been falling out more and more over the last few weeks, both of them stubbornly asserting their correctness in almost every case, even when it was obvious to both of them when they were wrong. Clara was right most of the time but it didn't help that when she wasn't right, she was just as bad at admitting it as the Doctor was.

"Me too," she replied quietly. "What is your favourite colour?"

"The colour of your eyes," he mumbled, looking away from her so that she didn't see his blush. Her mouth fell open and then closed again and she flopped down beside him to kiss his cheek. He turned to her, his smile sorrowful. "You have the most beautiful eyes."

"Thanks," she sighed. "It doesn't bother me, you know." He frowned. "Not knowing your name that is," she clarified. "I know that you haven't told me for a reason."

"Exactly," he replied softly. "It's better that you don't know it, for your own sake, not for mine. I don't tell people my name Clara, because you know me by the only name that matters, the Doctor. And you understand that, better than anyone."

"It's just…" she shook her head. "Sorry. It doesn't matter that you told River. I get that you did that because you had to, paradox and all that."

"River…" his face lit up and he patted Clara on the back. "That's who I first did the whoopee with at Asgard. Thanks Clara, that had been bugging me," he laughed.

Clara's face was like thunder. "You got mine and River's first times with you mixed up?" she asked him, her voice low and threatening. He had to tread carefully and he clearly realised it as his face fell.

"Um, see Clara…the thing is…"

"Oh you are so dead."


	173. The Healer

***Hey there guys, so this absolutely scorching prompt came over on tumblr, and I absolutely love it. The Healer is a Time Lady and the Doctor's wife, who runs away with him... I super hope you guys like it! More to come! TPD***

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><p>Her world had just come crashing down around her. She had seen everything, done everything, beside the man that she loved. Her Doctor. But not this. This was the end.<p>

She remembered when she first met him, back on Gallifrey. How he had looked across the room and smiled at her when she had yawned very loudly in the middle of TARDIS training class. His smile had lit up his face and it struck her how handsome he was. The cleverness came later of course, but he was always her clever boy. They were fresh out of the academy when they married, the clever boy and his impossible girl. The Doctor and the Healer, they fit together so well. It was a couple of hundred years of talking, before they actually did it. Before they actually decided to run.

They'd talked about hundreds of times of course, considered who to take with them. Their kids would never understand, would never be able to see the reasons that they left. The Doctor would never admit it, but he was disappointed in them, in the fact that they had grown up to be loyal servants of Gallifrey. But there was one grandchild who rebelled, who had ran away from her parents to find her grandfather and grandmother. The Doctor had been the one to suggest the TARDIS repair shop, but it had been the Healer who had chosen the right TARDIS. Or rather, she had chosen them, a telepathic message into the Healer's visual cortex enough to convince him that it was the right TARDIS. And so they started running.

He was a grumpy old man by this point, but the Healer's face never changed. Even when she regenerated, she found herself with the same face. Even when she was shot stopping Daleks and Cybermen, even when she grew too old and weary for her body, she regenerated back to the same basic form. Neither of them understood it, it was just a quirk of regeneration, they supposed. They travelled with many other people over the years and each new bright and shining companion was as wonderful as the last. Jaime, Sarah Jane, Peri, Ace, they all put a smile on the Doctor's face, which put a smile on the Healer's face. All except the one who wiped the smiles away.

Everything changed after the Time War. He became more quiet, more distant. He almost resented her for being a Time Lord, the only Time Lord left, besides him. She had been there, held his hand whilst Gallifrey exploded. At least she thought she had, she couldn't remember doing it. Now, they were running again, he was in his 9th body, the Healer was in her 8th. At least he called it his 9th body, he couldn't bring himself to call the man that had blown up the Daleks the Doctor, just as she couldn't bring herself to call her regeneration that fought in the Time War, the Healer. They had lost their right to those titles.

Rose Tyler was good for him, the Healer decided. She put a smile back on his face, a spring in his step, and light back in his life. They'd been alone for a while after the war and it was starting to show, the cracks were beginning to develop. He was lonely, even with her and the Healer had to admit that that stung slightly. But Rose was funny and smart and she reminded the Healer so much of the companions he had used to take, full of fire and bravery. Losing her had hit the Doctor hard.

Then came Martha Jones and Donna Noble. Martha had had a fierce crush on the Doctor, which hadn't worked out well for either of them, as the Doctor didn't spot it. The Healer had of course, but she didn't want to say anything, for fear of offending poor Martha. Donna Noble had been the perfect addition to their team, sassy as hell, funny and she didn't see the Doctor the way that the Healer saw him. She wondered if he was bored of her. He changed so much, every regeneration of him was different, but she stayed the same. Short, brown-haired, challenging, flirty, and completely in love with him.

His 11th face was the one that broke her heart. She couldn't say she was surprised. She should have known, from the moment that he climbed out of the TARDIS, leaving her in the swimming pool to pull herself out, that this regeneration would be the one to stop loving her. He got so attached to his companions, Amelia Pond and Rory Williams, that she was no longer needed. She felt like a spare part. And with River Song around, maybe she was. She wanted to leave the TARDIS more than anything, but she had nowhere else. Gallifrey had burned, her people were dead. The TARDIS was her home, the Doctor was her home. Or at least he had been.

She hadn't been there when he married River Song, but he had insisted that it was the only way, with a sorrowful face and a look in his eyes that was more guilt than anything else. She didn't care, she had known that their time together was coming to an end. And then the Ponds and River were gone and she was left, picking up the pieces on top of a cloud in the sky. For a while, it looked like they might rekindle their love. And then they met her. Clara Oswin Oswald. The woman who changed everything. The pieces of the puzzle were fitting together. She looked exactly like the Healer. At first, the Doctor had thought that she was playing a trick on him, but it turned out to be quite real. And then the Snowmen came and Clara died and it became obvious to the Doctor and the Healer that something was very wrong. Her name. There had been a girl called Oswin Oswald, at the Dalek Asylum. Neither of them had twigged the connection until it was too late.

They were her. They were the Healer. Versions of the Healer, in various places across time and space, almost like echoes. And then they met another one. Another echo. Clara Oswald, and she was different. So different, so much more alive. The Healer thought that watching the Doctor fall in love with an echo of her was the worst thing that he could possibly do to her. She had thought wrong. Then came Trenzalore.

The Healer had gone with the Doctor and Clara, of course she had. She had witnessed their relationship develop and the Doctor had made no apologies for it. He never did and he never would and he shouldn't have to. He was his own man. They were independent individuals, even if seeing him with Clara broke the Healer's heart. And then the Healer had learned that this was where it would happen. This is where she would create her echoes, this was where she would spread herself across the Doctor's time stream. And then the moment of truth came and she found herself unable to move. She was frozen in place, watching helplessly, held back by Strax and Vastra. They were fighting and she was fighting and then she could only watch as bitter realisation hit her.

Clara Oswald had jumped into the time stream. Clara, ordinary Clara, normal Clara, beautiful Clara. She had jumped in, not the Healer. Which could only mean one thing. The Doctor watched on helplessly as she struggled not to vomit, the whole world shifted around her and she started crying. All along. All along, she had been the echo, not the original. She was nothing, less than nothing. She was just a vibration, a ricochet, caused by Clara. She was born to save the Doctor. And then the Doctor stood. And he turned to her.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, not able to look her in the eye. "If it helps, I wanted it to be you."

It didn't help, not even slightly. The man who had loved her, stopped loving her and then fell in love with the her that wasn't her, telling her that he'd wanted her to be real. But she wasn't. The Healer was just an echo, just a fragment of Clara.

"I'm going in after her," the Doctor said suddenly and the Healer shook her head. "I have to. I owe her that."

"Please," the Healer said quietly. "Please don't leave me."

"I'm coming back," he promised her. "But I have to save Clara."

Clara. The way he said her name. He had used to say her name like that. Clara Oswald. The woman who had given her life and then taken it away from her. The Healer knew what happened next, she knew what happened to all of the echoes. They were born, they lived and then they died for him. Well that wouldn't be her. She refused to die for the Doctor. She had given him everything. She would take back her life. She didn't care that she wasn't Clara. She was still the Healer.

But then came the chance to save Gallifrey. He came to fetch her, even after she'd settled down, made a life of her own. And of course, she couldn't resist. Her home, her Gallifrey. She may not have been real, but Gallifrey was still her home. And she would help the Doctor defend it. That at least explained why she didn't remember being there with him. Three times. And then he was gone, with Clara again. And she was left to live her life.

Thirteen bodies. That was it, that was all a Time Lord was allowed. The Healer had run out of lives. He came to see her, once more, before the end. To apologise for everything. The Doctor rarely apologised to her, so she appreciated it. But she could never forgive him. She could never forgive him for how he had treated her and he knew it too. She had lived for him. But in the end, although she didn't die for him, it was good to have him there when she did.


	174. Reversed Roles

***Hey there guys, another one that came in over on tumblr, this one features Clara, a Time Lady from the planet Gallifrey who 'borrowed' a TARDIS and ran away, only to find the same floppy haired idiot everywhere she goes... I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>Why did he keep turning up? She didn't understand him, not one bit and Clara hated not understanding things. All of time and space and there were very few things left that could surprise her. The TARDIS was being less than helpful, so she set herself up in a nunnery in 1234 and waited, contemplating the meaning of the man twice dead. John Smith, Doctor John Smith. He'd turned up at the Dalek Asylum, then in Victorian London and both times he had died, saving Clara's life. And he didn't make sense.<p>

"My Lady!" one of the nuns crashed in. "The Bells of Saint John are ringing."

Clara stood, throwing back her hood, her hair wild beneath it, her eyes tired and her clothes creased. She crossed the room, touching the nun briefly on the shoulder, before looking once more at her portrait of Doctor John Smith. Then her eyes flicked back to the nun, staring at her helplessly.

"I'm going to need a horse," Clara informed her.

Sure enough, when she got to the TARDIS, the external phone was ringing. She cursed, she kept forgetting to patch it back through the console so that she didn't have to answer it from the outside. That got a bit hairy in a scrape. She answered the phone and a voice down the other end that was strangely familiar filled her ear.

"Ah!" he said. "Thank goodness, there you are. Where's the Wi-Fi?"

Well that was unexpected. "The Wi-Fi?" Clara answered disbelievingly. "It's 1234."

"Blimey," he cried. "I've got 3pm. I'm not calling another time zone am I?"

"Little bit yeah," Clara frowned.

"Will it show up on the bill?"

Clara winced at the thought and chuckled slightly as she replied. "I dread to think."

How was this possible? How on Earth had someone called the TARDIS?

"Where did you get this number?" she asked, hands on hips, glaring slightly at her blue box, as if this was all her fault. It probably was, the TARDIS loved getting her into scrapes.

"Bloke from down the shop. Does it matter?"

"Little bit," she sighed. "Look have you tried to use the Wi-Fi button?"

"Hang on!" he grumbled, and she heard him clicking and typing down the other end of the phone. "Run…you…clever…girl…and…remember…1..2.."

"What?" Clara dropped the phone and fumbled frantically with it. "What did you say?"

"No need to shout!" the man down the other end shot back. "It's just a pneumonic to remember the password by. Run you clever girl and remember…"

But Clara had already dropped the phone and was inside the TARDIS, flipping switches and levers, tracking the call at rapid pace. The TARDIS dematerialised and she momentarily felt bad for abandoning the horse. Then she touched down and she was flying out of the TARDIS, hammering frantically on the front door.

And it was him. He answered the door, eyeing Clara up and down, looking confused, his floppy hair all over the place, straightening his bow tie as he did so.

"John Smith?" she grinned.

"That's me."

"Doctor John Smith?"

"Not a Doctor yet," he laughed. "Who are you?"

"I'm Clara!"

"Clara?"

"Clara. Don't you remember me?"

"Should I, who are you? Clara who?"

She loved it when people said that. Clara who, so mysterious.

"Just Clara," she clarified. Then she realised that she was still dressed as a nun, which was quite odd. Not cool at all. She suspected that cool was not on John Smith's radar though, the bow tie was just plain weird. "Can I come in?"

"Why?" John Smith was suspicious and she didn't blame him, she must look very odd.

"To chat," she tried. "About…young people things."

He shut the door in her face. She should have expected that. She raced back to the TARDIS.

"Thanks for warning me about the clothes," she grumbled to her machine as she stripped off. It bleeped in response. "Oi none of your lip."

She dressed in a blue plaid shirt and a black skirt and ran a brush through her hair furiously. Ah the life of a Time Lady, so many places to be, so little time. She kicked open the doors, strolling back to John Smith's doors. Something was wrong, she picked up on it instantly.

"John!" she called. "John!"

No response. Clara whipped her sonic out her cardigan pocket and soniced open the front door, staggering inside. A walking Wi-Fi base station. Oh hell. John was lying, face up on the ground. The base station. Clara soniced it, 78% downloaded. Oh no it didn't. She halted the download with her sonic and hunted for the laptop John had been using to access the Wi-Fi. It was on the top floor and she threw it open, typing frantically.

"Oh no you don't," she muttered. Whoever was controlling the base station was fighting back, trying to reinitiate the download, but Clara was having none of it. She typed furiously, seizing control. "Gotcha!" she yelled and then the base station was hers. She ran downstairs, to where John was still lying on the floor. She fussed over him, kissing his forehead softly and scooping him up into her surprisingly strong arms, carrying him to bed.

It was several hours before John woke and when he did, Clara was sat in the garden, the TARDIS beside her, fiddling with the walking base station. The damned things were untraceable, whatever was in the Wi-Fi was everywhere, impossible to find a source for. Clara had spent most of the night trying to hack the lower levels of the security, it was proving a nightmarish task.

"I was in bed," John asked her, his floppy hair adorable having just gotten up. "Why was I in bed? What happened to me?"

"It doesn't matter," Clara replied kindly. "Because you're safe now, I promise."

"Are you guarding me?" John raised an eyebrow and Clara shrugged.

"It would seem so," she said with a smile and John pulled away from the window. A few moments later, the front door and the tweed clad, the bow tie wearing idiot slumped into the chair beside her. "Hello John."

"Clara," he pointed at the base station. "What is that thing?"

"Walking Wi-Fi base station," Clara replied absent-mindedly. "There's something living in the Wi-Fi, I'm trying to track its source."

Suddenly, the lights all across the street. Clara was on her feet, as she quickly realised what was happening. They were being lit up like a Christmas tree. Clara looked up. There was a plane, coming right for them. Planes had Wi-Fi, didn't they? Clara paled. John frowned and she grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the TARDIS.

"Quick!" she called, as he tried to resist. "In the box."

Once they were inside, she could see him trying to comprehend it all.

"Yes I know," she snapped, frantically working the controls. "Bigger on the inside, very spacey, very cool, now if you could shut up John, I'm working."

Clara was moving fast, and then they were landing.

"What the hell is going on?" John spluttered.

"That plane was coming right for us," Clara explained. "My name's Clara, I'm a Time Lady, I'm 1000 years old, I have two hearts, this is a bigger on the inside, time and space travelling blue box and we've just landed on a plane that I have no idea how to fly! Any questions?"

"Hundreds," John responded.

"Good!" Clara grinned and threw open the TARDIS doors. "Geronimo."


	175. New Teacher

***Hey guys. I meant to get this up earlier, but what can I say, I got distracted, I'm a sucker for a pretty face! So, there's a new teacher at Coal Hill School... This one came over on tumblr, I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>It was a Wednesday. Clara Oswald woke at exactly 7am, the same time she always woke on a Wednesday. She clambered out of bed, yawning loudly as she trudged across her bedroom to the en-suite bathroom. The daily trudge to the bathroom was tough for Clara, almost as tough as the trudge from the shower to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, which was by far the most painful part of her day. Once she had tea inside her, Clara could cope with the day ahead, cope with what was to come. She had a couple of slices of toast, buttered, just like every Wednesday and dressed quickly, a red skirt and blouse. Clara applied minimal makeup and smoothed out her hair and at exactly half past seven, just like every Wednesday, she stepped out the door to walk to work. The school where Clara worked, Coal Hill School, was just ten minutes' walk down the road and it was a crisp, September morning, still warm from the residue of the summer as Clara walked down the street.<p>

When she got to the school, there was a hubbub in the staffroom, which was always interesting, as it could only mean one thing. A new teacher. Clara loved the buzz that filled the room whenever there was a new teacher. There was a constant, quiet level of chat, everyone craning their necks to spy him when he was showed around. Clara had heard at least three different descriptions of him, some more complimentary than others. One said his chin was the size of Venus, another said he was gorgeous and a third saying he was weird. The descriptions piled together in Clara's head as she settled in for her morning class. Her Year Nine English class were always a pain, but she had them under control by now. Clara had always loved teaching English, it was her one passion, she was good with kids and she loved books. Secretly, she'd always wanted to travel, but travelling wasn't exactly feasible when she had no money. Now that she had a decent job, maybe she could save up.

She caught her first glimpse of the new teacher halfway through her second class, through the glass window in her door. She saw a flash of beige tweed and dark, boisterous hair that was in a well styled quiff. She smiled softly to herself and then focused back on her lesson. She caught a proper look at him at break, as he sat on the side of the staffroom. He had a very angular face and they were right about his chin, Clara was worried it would take her eye out if she got too close to him. But he had a very nice smile and his face lit up when he laughed. She denied the weird dress sense out of hand, she loved the way he dressed, in suspenders and tweed, complete with a blood red bow tie that matched her dress. And God was his hair floppy. She just wanted to run her hands through it.

It was lunchtime before they actually spoke. He was crossing the lunch hall and there was an empty seat opposite Clara, so he almost fell into it, causing her to giggle. He gave her a shy smile and then started eating his sandwich. Clara usually ate from the canteen, and suddenly felt very healthy with her fruit salad, applauding her own subconscious efforts. She immediately was picking up every imperfection with herself as he extended his hand to shake and she took it. His hands were rough, but gentle and to Clara, it felt like they belonged around hers.

"John Smith," he greeted, his voice full of enthusiasm.

"Clara Oswald," she replied, a slight blush coming to her face. Oh great, she had a crush on John Smith. Still, it could be worse, at least he was cute.

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><p>It was a Wednesday. John Smith woke up at half past six in the morning, bristling with excitement. It was his first day at a new job and he wanted to be there nice and early. He showered and had his morning coffee and then spent nearly twenty minutes wrestling with his hair, before deciding what he was going to wear. He mused over his suits for a while, which was a pointless exercise because he could easily have predicted what he was going to choose. He slipped into the beige tweed, strapped on his suspenders and tied up his bow tie. He left the flat about quarter past seven and it was only a five minute drive to the school. Coal Hill, his new work place. John taught science and history, a rare mix but one that he enjoyed and the head teacher had been more than happy to take him on, for which he was grateful.<p>

In truth, he wanted nothing more than just to settle in, blend in, as if he'd been there for years. John hated the show and fuss that was always made at a new school when a new teacher joined, it was so humiliating. Nevertheless, if it took a day of being paraded around like a show pony, then he was happy to play along. So when he got there, he was ushered straight through to the office and then he spent the morning having a grand tour.

He first spotted the cute brunette in the red dress at break time, watching him from across the staff room and he smiled when he realised that she was looking. She was short, which he automatically thought was adorable, the way her little legs didn't reach the floor, despite the fact that her chair wasn't that high. Her long, brown hair was curly and suited her perfectly and he loved how she wasn't plastered in makeup, like some of the other teachers. She had a funny nose, but it suited her, her eyes were the deepest chocolate and her smile made his heart skip a beat.

They finally spoke at lunch time. If he was honest, he had been hoping to talk to her, but it was still a coincidence that there was nowhere else to sit as he collected his lunch and ended up opposite her. Now that he was here, opposite her, he suddenly felt very shy and he gave her a little smile as she giggled at his poor landing. He plucked up all of his courage.

"John Smith," he said as brightly as he could, extending out his arm.

"Clara Oswald," Clara Oswald replied, blushing slightly. She was adorable when she blushed. Oh great, he had a crush on Clara Oswald. Well, at least she was cute.


	176. Running

***Sup troops! Day 5 of DW Who Fest is 'Running' so here's some cute and fluffy Whouffle for you guys to enjoy :D I've got some more prompts coming including multiple echoes, The Girl Who Waited, texting and cafes. I hope you like them! TPD***

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><p>"Run you clever boy and remember me."<p>

Running wasn't the same without her. The Doctor didn't like running alone, but Clara was very insistent, especially after securing her job as a teacher, that she wouldn't run with him all the time. She had her own life and the Doctor had to respect that. It was her way or no way at all. If he wanted her to travel with him, he'd have to accept her terms and conditions and that was something that the Doctor loved about her.

Still, she might have a life outside of him, but that didn't mean that he had to have a life outside of her. So for her, it was once a week, every Wednesday, but for him, every day became a Wednesday, he could leap from Wednesday to Wednesday with careless abandon, every day would be a Clara Oswald day.

It hadn't started out that way of course and it hadn't been because of her originally. It had been the mystery. The Doctor had taken his time, giving her the space that she'd wanted, but he'd been desperate, desperate to solve her mystery. Because she had eaten away at him, plaguing the vague recesses of his mind, making him question everything he understood, for an answer, dying to find the reason for his impossible girl. So he'd raced through, eager to get back to Clara, to find out who she was, why she was important. The more time he spent with her, the more urgent the need got, until he spent almost no time apart from her.

And then came Trenzalore, then came the truth. He learned who she was, he understood Clara Oswald in a way that he'd not understood her before. He had the answer to his mystery, he had the solution. He no longer needed to run with her, no longer needed to run to her.

So they spent some time apart. Or rather, he spent some time apart from her, she was already spending time apart from him. She became a teacher, moved out of the Maitlands, she was developing a life away from him.

But for him it wasn't working. He didn't want to spend time away from her. And he didn't understand why at first. He'd solved her mystery, he'd worked everything out. So why did he feel empty? Why when he was running from Daleks, running from Cybermen, did he feel like he wasn't really running at all?

The Doctor mused it over, time and time again. He tried different things to stave off the boredom, stave off the empty feeling. But the more he ran, the worse it got until it didn't matter if he was running or not, he felt the same, dull, hard feeling in his chest.

And then he went to see Clara. She called him up, asked to see him or he would pitch up because it had been too long for both of them. And the feeling would go. He would be running with Clara and it would feel like he was alive again, like he would never stop running with her, never again.

And then she'd want to go home, back to her life, the life that she had created. And he respected that. But when he went back to his life of running, running without Clara Oswald, he felt like he wanted to run back to her. So that was what he started doing, more and more. Every time he dropped Clara home, he would race to the following Wednesday and she wouldn't be able to resist, because she never could. They were settling into a routine again and for the Doctor, it was just like it had been when he was trying to solve her mystery. The desperation to see her, the need inside him to get to the next meeting. But it was different. It wasn't a need to understand her; it was a need to be with her. His Clara.

So when she told him to run, he ran. He ran to Clara Oswald, the way that he had ran to Amy and Rory, because he was unable to stop himself. He knew that he should ration her. He knew that she wouldn't be around for ever and the more time he took between visits, the more of his life he could spend with Clara Oswald. But that wasn't enough for him. The thing about temptation is that it seeps into you until you can't help but give into it, even though you know that it's not what's best for you.

"See you next Wednesday?" the Doctor offered, as Clara strolled towards the door. She glanced back at him, a wide smile on her face.

"You know it," she chuckled, shutting the TARDIS door behind her. The Doctor danced around the console, flipping switches and levers and then the TARDIS took off and then landed again. After a few moments, the doors flew open and there she was again, Clara Oswald, her hair one week longer, her eyes one week older, her tan one week browner.

"Hey there Chin-Boy!" she greeted with a smile, that same smile she'd given him thirty seconds earlier. "Ready to run?"

He was always to ready to run with her.


	177. She Remembers Him

***Hey guys, this one came in on tumblr. Clara Oswald's echoes were born to save the Doctor. And they know it. Their lives change in a single moment when they meet the Doctor and know what they have to do. And it breaks their hearts, every time, because they can't help but fall in love with him, just a little bit... TPD***

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><p>When she first spotted him on Gallifrey, she remembered the Doctor instantly. She could feel herself throwing herself into his time stream to save him, spotting his face out of the crowd. She knew how this ended. She knew what she had to do. He was wonderful, she noted. He was old, but he still had that fire, that care in his look and the way he wrapped a protective arm around his grand-daughter made her burn with admiration. She knew that she would die for him. Sure enough, even as she reached him, to warn him to take his TARDIS, the right TARDIS, she would be executed for it. But it was worth it, worth it for her Doctor. And then he saw her, turned around as she called him and the lack of comprehension as he saw her, broke her heart.<p>

Clara Oswin was just an ordinary girl, nothing special about her at all. She'd been born as part of the baby boom, just after the Second World War and she was nearly twenty five when everything changed. When her whole world shifted and melted and fit perfectly into place. Because she saw the Doctor and memories flooded into her. She had met him before, in another life and when they'd met, she'd splintered herself across time and space. She was born to save the Doctor. She would die for him that was the way that it always ended. He didn't remember her of course, why would he, it had been hundreds of years since they'd last met and the girls looked similar, but not the same. She never told him her name, it was easier that way. But he smiled at her. He had the same smile, two bodies and hundreds of years later. That same warm, intricate smile that guided her in and made her laugh and shudder. She couldn't remember his smile of course. She could only remember him and her mission to die for him. And that was what she did. The bullet would have hit him had she not stepped in the way. She died in his arms, so at least that was something, his cape whipped around her. And the way he smiled at her broke her heart.

Clara Oswald was making lunch when she saw him out of her window. His crazy multi-colour coat and his frizzy hair and she dropped the knife she was using to chop onions as recognition hit her. He was the Doctor. Her Doctor, the man she was born to save. She made straight for the door of her small apartment and threw it open, running out into the street, still in her apron, which she discarded into the nearest bin. She wouldn't need it anymore, as today was the day that she was going to die. She would die for him, the Doctor, that was her purpose after all. And like so many echoes before her and so many after her, she would never question it, never challenge it. He didn't smile when he saw her and that hurt. It didn't hurt quite as much as when she died of electrocution to free him from his prison cell, knowing that in a matter of minutes, he would have been executed. He didn't look at her as he walked away and that broke her heart.

When she heard his voice, when she raced over to the console, Oswin Oswald knew that her long wait in the Asylum was over. She also knew that she was probably not going to leave the Asylum alive. She knew him, instantly, by his voice and when she saw his face, she couldn't help but giggle at his chin. The Doctor. Her Doctor. The Doctor that she was going to die for. And then he was inside the Asylum beside her and Oswin decided to do something that none of her other echoes previously had done, she decided to be selfish. Because this wasn't just any Doctor. This was Clara's Doctor. The Doctor that she would jump into the time stream for. And it was the Doctor she had fallen in love with. Oswin wanted to share him, even if it was only for a little while. Oh she would die for him, she would die for her Doctor, but she might as well enjoy him for a while.

She could have beamed him straight out of the Asylum, but she wanted to get out. She wanted to postpone her death as long as she could, so that she could spend just a little more time with her Doctor. So she asked him to come and get her. So that she could escape the Asylum and travel with him for a bit before she died. And then he reached her and she saw the way that he looked at her. She had been expecting a lack of recognition, but this was…worse. So much worse. He was looking at her in horror. And then, she realised. She had denied it, denied the reason that she was going to die for him, the reason she could never leave the Asylum. But there it was. She was a Dalek. She couldn't believe it. She had been so close. She had fooled herself, for one shining moment, that she could steal him. That she could spend time with him. That once, just once, one of the echoes could spend time with their Doctor. But she had been a fool. And now all that was left to do was die for him. And the look on his face when he saw her, the hatred in her Doctor's eyes, the hatred on the face of the man she loved, even when she was going to die for him, broke her heart.

For Clara Oswin Oswald, her double life was perfectly balanced. She had everything under control, life was good. Then came the Snowmen. Then came the Doctor, her Doctor. And Clara knew how this went. She saw him in the street, behind her bar and she knew what she had to do. She had to go after him, she had to keep him safe, whatever the cost. The cost she knew that she would end up paying, sooner or later. She had been hoping for later. It turned out to be sooner. She chased him down, she needed to get him to stop the Snowmen, because she knew the Doctor and knew that he was the only man who could. And of course he came, just like she had known that he would. And she fell in love with him. So many echoes before her had never been able to admit it, but Clara knew that she had fallen for him, just a little bit. She kissed him, because she wanted to, needed to, just once, before she died, which she inevitably would.

And then he offered her a TARDIS key. That was it, that was the moment that she started to believe. Because she knew. She knew that she would take it, because she wouldn't be able to resist. And she got her hopes up, the way so many before her had and would. She got her hopes up, only to have them dashed just moments later. And when the ice lady grabbed her, Clara Oswin Oswald's heart snapped in two. Because she had been so close, so very close, so much closer than any Clara Oswald's had ever been before. And yet she, like every other echo before her could not escape her fate. She would die for the Doctor, die to save the Doctor. Because that was what she was born to do. And it broke her heart.


	178. The Double Doctor Paradox

***Hey guys, I really hope that you guys like this one, it came in on tumblr. I hope that you guys like it. Similar to The Girl Who Waited, Clara must choose between her Doctors. TPD***

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><p>Clara was leaning forwards, resting on the rail as the Doctor sung cheerily behind her, his dulcet tones very different, much deeper than those of his predecessor. She smiled at the sound, he had a very nice voice and she suspected that he knew that she thought that way, which was why he sang a lot. The smugness in his voice when she complimented him on it told its own story. He was shooting looks at the back of her head, she could feel them burning into her skull. He was waiting for a compliment on his singing, she knew that much, but she had no intention of indulging him, smirking slightly as he stopped singing and huffed.<p>

"You know it wouldn't kill you to acknowledge my brilliance once in a while," he grumbled.

"But if I did," Clara turned to him, a wry smile still on her face. "Then your already enormous ego would inflate to the size of Gallifrey."

The Doctor made a big show of huffing and puffing, whining like a small child as they took off and then the TARDIS seemed to be making a huff and puff as well, which made Clara frown as the machine wheezed and groaned. She exchanged a look with the Doctor, who ran a hand through his short, white hair.

"What's wrong old girl?" he muttered. "She shouldn't be doing this."

"I guessed," Clara replied, causing him to growl slightly at her. She loved winding him up, it was far too easy. "So what is it?"

"I don't know," the Doctor still seemed perturbed so Clara went to put a gentle hand on his arm, which she could tell he appreciated, even if he didn't say it. "And I don't like it." He didn't need to tell her, she could feel the unease melting off of him.

There was a horrible thud and the TARDIS interior shook as they crashed. The Doctor looked at Clara. He didn't need to tell her that they'd landed, that much was obvious from the stillness that had settled over the machine and Clara slipped her hand into his as they made for the door. He looked worried, like he always did when something went wrong with the TARDIS or when he didn't like the idea of Clara doing something. This was both of those occasions, all rolled into one. Clara pulled him out of the TARDIS and when they made it outside, her heart caught in her throat and she could feel the Doctor's grip on her hand stiffen and tighten but she was too caught up in the moment to reassure him. Because the Doctor was stood in front of her. Her Doctor. The 11th Doctor. She had no idea where they were, and she didn't care, the world melted out around the three of them.

"Clara!" he said softly, slightly confused, straightening his bow tie and glancing at the Doctor that she was holding hands with. She felt her hand drop out of his, and she knew that her Doctor was wincing, staring at his bow tied former self. "And…by the looks of it…me."

"Doctor," Clara murmured gently and she took a step towards him, but by doing so, she took a step away from her Doctor and she could sense his displeasure at the turn of events, which only made her feel worse, more confused.

"Yes, you're the Doctor, I'm the Doctor, this is Clara, glad we're all clear on events, Clara and I should be going," her Doctor snapped, the hurt in his voice evident and Clara flinched, seeing the previous Doctor frowning and biting his lip.

"Yes," he replied and Clara shot her Doctor a glare as the man in the purple tweed that she had fallen in love with looked dejected. "Yes you probably should, timelines and all that, you shouldn't be here, it's very bad. How did this even happen?"

"Don't look at me," her Doctor snapped. "Blame the TARDIS, she was the one playing up. She must've been dragged here by your TARDIS' spatio-temporal code; we got too close to you and got pulled in by you."

"My spatio-temporal code?!" the 11th Doctor grumbled. "You should know where to go and where not to go, the TARDIS should have all previous routes and destinations logged."

"Well excuse me for fiddling with the TARDIS destination log!" her Doctor snapped and Clara stepped between them, as they were glaring furiously at each other.

"Stop it!" she shouted and they both fell silent. "Both of you put a sock in it right now! Doctor, is that really you?"

She could see the look of anguish on the face of her Doctor as she approached the other Doctor, the old Doctor, the Doctor she had long since accepted that she would never see again.

"Yes," he replied, his voice as kind and soothing as it could be. "It's me, my impossible girl."

She threw her arms around him and she could feel the pain that her Doctor was feeling and hated herself for it, but at the same time, this was the Doctor she had fallen in love with, the Doctor that she had thought would never leave her. Until he had.

"Clara," her Doctor was saying, her voice suddenly sounding alien in his Scottish lilt. "We need to get out of here, the timelines…"

"Damn the timelines!" Clara snapped. "Can't he come with us?"

She knew that it was impossible, but she didn't care. She didn't care that it couldn't happen, she needed her Doctor, needed him to understand that this Doctor was one she had lost hope of seeing again. She broke the hug and staggered back a touch to face her own Doctor.

"Clara, get into the TARDIS," her Doctor snapped and she could see his anger, followed by the wince of the old Doctor, the look of anguish at how he would treat Clara in future.

"No!" Clara shouted and the Doctors flinched. "I'm not leaving without him. Either he comes with us, or I stay here."

"The girl who waited paradox."

Clara stared at the 11th Doctor, for it was he who had said the words. Her Doctor shot him a look of confusion. Then, he seemed to realise.

"You want to resolve this paradox the same way?" he suggested and the 11th Doctor nodded.

"Resolve what paradox?" Clara said quickly. "What way?"

"We had a similar situation come up once with Amelia Pond," her Doctor explained. "I found a way to resolve the situation so that both Amy's could travel on the same TARDIS. We can do the same thing here, get inside."

Clara nodded and headed over to the TARDIS, clicking her fingers and the doors crashed open. She stepped inside and turned back. The two Doctors were approaching, hers slightly ahead of the other. As her Doctor stepped into the TARDIS past Clara and she stuck her hand out invitingly to the 11th Doctor who smiled sadly. Then she heard the sonic whirring and the doors slammed shut. Clara whipped round to look at her Doctor, her eyes wide and angry as he walked around the control room.

"What're you doing?" she screamed, trying to open the doors but they were firmly locked shut, no matter how hard she tried, they wouldn't open. "You said there was a way to resolve the situation. What happened in the two Amy situation?"

"I lied to her too," the Doctor replied blankly, ignoring Clara as the TARDIS took off. "I let them think that they could both survive on the TARDIS, they couldn't. I did what was necessary then and I did so again now. He's gone Clara. He's me. He can't travel with us, it's impossible. And you can't travel with him, it would mess up the timelines. I'm sorry Clara."

"You lied to me," she answered quietly, angrily. She had known. Of course she had known that she couldn't travel with both of them, that the Doctor she'd left behind was in the past. But he had lied to her, tricked her and given her hope.

"Yes I did," he replied bluntly, still refusing to look at her.

"You didn't have to lie to me," Clara growled. "I'm not a child."

"I did it to make it easier."

"Well that certainly didn't work!" Clara snapped and now he looked at her, her eyes narrowed to slits, her arms crossed and she could see he felt guilty. "Well?"

"Well what?" he asked, and there was exasperation in his voice. "What would you have had me do Clara, you clearly would have chosen him…"

The Doctor trailed off and turned away from Clara again, so she traversed the space between them and reached out a hand to touch his face. He jumped at her touch and slowly turned into her, as she leaned up to kiss his cheek as she caressed it.

"I would always choose you," she muttered under her breath. "My Doctor."


	179. The Little Things

***Hey guys, Doctor Who Fest's 6th Day today and the 6th prompt is 'The Little Things'. So have some cute little Whouffle to brighten up your morning! TPD***

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><p>Sometimes, it's the little things that make you smile. You can see all of time and all of space and it wows you. But even after seeing all of that, it is the little things, the small little events in your everyday life, that make you smile, that make you stop and question everything. For Clara, it was a small piece of information that she had never realised would be helpful until it came along. One of her students was looking particularly glum as they packed up, so she crossed the room, placing a calming hand on his shoulder as he bundled his things into his bag. He flinched at her touch slightly and looked up at her smiling face, replying with a slight upward twitch of his lips.<p>

"Something the matter Tommy?" Clara asked softly and he sighed, shaking his head.

"It's just my history homework miss," he protested and Clara's eyebrow slanted upwards. "I just can't seem to pin down the details of this one battle."

So Clara pondered the little things as she spent her break educating little Tommy on a battle that she had in fact been at, although she couldn't tell him that. As she recalled, the man who had turned the tide of the battle, the immortal figure known only as the knight in the purple tweed, had been able to breach the enemy lines and send out a distress signal which caused the enemy to panic, double back on themselves and give his side the time they needed to recover. Clara insisted that the knight in the purple tweed had been very brave. She didn't tell him the truth, which was that the Doctor had lost control of his horse and that the distress flare was because he was in distress and meant for Clara. By the time Clara had gotten to him, they were in the middle of a battlefield and they'd had to scamper back to the TARDIS before they got blown up. It had been one hell of an afternoon.

After Tommy had scurried off, Clara heard a knock on her classroom door and whipped round to see the knight in the purple tweed standing in her doorway, a cheeky grin on his face and a cup of tea in his hand. She crossed the room and reached up to peck his lips.

"I brought you a cup of tea," the Doctor said, thrusting it out to her proudly. "That's what fiancés do, isn't it? They bring tea?"

"Yes Doctor," Clara laughed, enveloping him into a huge hug as she took the piping hot tea from his grasp. "Fiancés bring tea. Thank you." Just like it was the little things that made her life on the TARDIS exciting, it was also the little things between her and the Doctor.

"Excellent!" he straightened his bow tie. "And also, I rigged up your projection with 4D, I hope you don't mind, I thought the kids would love it!"

"4D?" Clara laughed, turning back to the projector, which chose that precise moment to fall calamitously from the ceiling and Clara squeaked as it crashed onto her desk. The Doctor paled visibly as she rounded on him.

"I may have had to disconnect a few things to make space for the 4D," he admitted. "But I am positive that it's nothing unfixable."

As if on cue, half of Clara's classroom seemed to come down on top of them, the ceiling splintering as it crashed down onto the projector and Clara glared furiously at the Doctor as she pushed him out of the room. People were sticking their heads out of nearby classrooms and Clara's head was in her hands.

"Don't worry!" the Doctor called. "I can fix that. Drink your tea Clara, you don't want it to get cold, after all."

If it wasn't for the little things, Clara would probably have killed him.


	180. Texting

***Hey guys, this one came in from the wife, xandrota, asking for the Doctor and Clara to get separated and having to communicate via text. I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p><strong>TLOTTL: CLARA CLARA CLARA U were right behind me ten seconds ago where the hell did U go U didn't get captured did U because if U did then that wasn't very bright LOL Doctor x <strong>10:56

_Oswin56: I was right behind you until you darted down those corners and I lost sight of you, where the hell are you? And for the millionth time stop saying LOL it doesn't mean what you think it does! X _10:57

**TLOTTL: me i appear to have been captured LOL Doctor x **10:59

_Oswin56: WHAT? Okay, okay, let's not panic. Whereabouts are they taking you? X _11:00

**TLOTTL: no ifea theu stuvk a bag ofer my hesd gettong kimd of hatd to brearhe LOL Dictir x **11:04

_Oswin56: DOCTOR! Oh for the love of…hang in there, they'll be taking you towards the castle, I'll come and get you. Why were the guards chasing us in the first place? X _11:05

_Oswin56: DOCTOR! DOCTOR! Please, please answer! The streets are crawling with guards, I'm hiding in some sort of dung heap until they pass. I need to know that you're okay x _11:12

**TLOTTL: ah i can breathe again sorry clara they threw me in a cell no idea where I am probably in some sort of dungeon probably the castle dungeon as for y they were chasing us not entirely sure but its entirely possible that the salute i gave them is actually quite offensive on this planet to put it in human terms i effectively said fuck the queen LOL Doctor x **11:26

_Oswin56: Offfff course you did. Typical. Effing typical. Only you could manage to insult the local royalty and now you're in dungeon, probably going to be executed knowing our luck and I'm hiding in a dung heap. There are guards everywhere Doctor, I don't know how long it'll be before I can make a break for it x _11:28

**TLOTTL: have no fear clara i think i found a way out theres bars on the cell window and i think the sonic can remove them or at least break one of them LOL Doctor x **11:31

_Oswin56: Okay, I'm making a move now, still in the backstreets but getting closer to the castle, I don't think the guards recognise me now I'm grubbed up a bit. Be safe x _11:34

**TLOTTL: OK bars off climbed out into kitchen lovely woman hear greeting me oh no wait she appears to be calling the guards best dash LOL Doctor x **11:36

_Oswin56: Doctor! Oh God please just don't die before I get there! X _11:37

_Oswin56: Doctor, I'm close now, I can see the castle, I just need to find a way inside. Whatever you're doing, please just let me know that you're okay x _11:43

**TLOTTL: how did U know about the execution thing thats exactly what they want to do clara blimey oh reilly ur so clever and it turns out that if U accidentally knock some of the guards unconscious with frying pans they actually push up ur execution to well noon LOL Doctor x **11:53

_Oswin56: They're executing you in 5 minutes?! Bloody hell Doctor! Okay, I'm into the courtyard, I can see the block that they're going to put your head onto. What do I do here Doctor? What do I do? X _11:54

**TLOTTL: yes i can see U hello clara U look a bit muddy any assistance would be greatly appreciated at this moment in time LOL Doctor x **11:56

_Oswin56: Tell me what to do Doctor, how do I get you out of here? X _11:57

**TLOTTL: clar running clara i know this is a sticky situation but running wont help me oh OK ur distracting the guards i should probably move shouldnt i LOL Doctor x **11:59

_Oswin56: Keep running, rendezvous back at the TARDIS and I swear to God if you get captured again I am going to kill you myself x _12:03

**TLOTTL: clara i cant see you anymore where have U gone i need U clara hurry up get back to the TARDIS LOL Doctor x **12:06

**TLOTTL: clara i dont know where U r but i need U because i love U and i refuse to leave without U LOL Doctor x **12:10

**TLOTTL: i am coming to look for U clara unless U reply like now because im scared clara and i cant lose U LOL Doctor x **12:20

**TLOTTL: clara **12:23

**TLOTTL: clara please **12:27

**TLOTTL: clara i left the TARDIS and im running through the streets again but i cant find U anywhere clara please LOL Doctor x **12:35

_Oswin56 has disconnected._


	181. The Langer Boy

***Hey guys, another new prompt for you now. I hope you like this one, sent in by umitsfanfiction, asking for a teenage Ellie to meet Luke or Clyde and for the Doctor to have a chat with her about boys :P I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>The Doctor didn't like that Langer boy. It didn't matter to him that the boys' parents were Clyde and Rani Langer, whom he knew had been friends with Sarah Jane, the boy was trouble. He was the same age as Ellie but in the school year above her, since Clara insisted that their daughter went through school at the normal rate and Luke Langer turned 16 before Ellie would. Clara insisted that the Doctor was just being a grumbling old man and that Ellie could be friends with anyone she wanted but that didn't stop him from grumbling.<p>

The truth was, he still saw Ellie as his little girl and he'd much rather have her hanging around with him, in the TARDIS than with those human boys from her school. He didn't want his daughter to be a human, he wanted her to be a Time Lady. But, he supposed, the more time that she spent with the Langer boy, the more that the Doctor ought to talk to her about well that sort of thing. So he sat her down with Clara watching from the kitchen, sipping a cup of tea, a smirk on his wife's face. Ellie looked decidedly bored as the Doctor pondered how to broach the subject.

"So Ellie," he mused. "Jelly. Jellbell…sweetie. You've been spending a lot of time with the Langer boy recently and I uh, just wanted to uh, talk to you about um… well…"

"Oh Luke?" Ellie's face lit up. "Luke's the best, he's so funny and the sweetest guy ever."

"Did you have intercourse with him?" the Doctor blurted and Clara spat her tea all over the counter. Ellie's eyes widened in shock as the Doctor crossed his arms firmly and Clara choked and spluttered behind him, wheezing with laughter. "Well? Did you?"

"Daaaaaaaaaad!" Ellie groaned, crossing her arms in the same manner as her father, glaring at him furiously, her face so remarkably like her mother's when she was angry. "You can't just ask me that!"

"Why not?" he demanded. "I mean, uh, I am your father. I should know if this sort of…fricking and fracking is going on. So I can monitor it. Well not monitor it, that would be weird but I need to know if this intercourse is occurring."

Clara was clutching her side, positively weeping with silent laughter behind him, leaning on the desk as she was having trouble breathing, she was laughing so hard. Ellie was fuming, locking eyes furiously with her father as they were silently yelling at each other.

"Luke's gay," she said bluntly and the Doctor's face paled. "So you don't need to worry about us doing the fricking and the fracking. And if I was having…intercourse," she smirked very deliberately at the word as it rolled off of her tongue, mocking her father. "Believe me Doctor, you would be the last person to know about it."

She knew that he hated it when she called him Doctor, as opposed to Dad, and he spluttered angrily, whipping around to face Clara, who had just about recovered from her laughing fit.

"Clara!" the Doctor whined, appealing for help. "Could you please talk to your daughter?"

"I did," Clara replied, a wicked grin on her face as she sipped on what was left of her tea. "In fact Ellie and I had an in-depth chat about the birds and bees and safe sex and how she's old enough to make her own decisions and that we trust her as long as she's honest and has open communication with us. We talked about it last week."

"Last week?" the Doctor exploded. "Well why didn't you tell me?"

"What?" Clara chuckled. "And miss you asking her about the fricking and the fracking?" The looks on his wife and daughter's faces were openly mocking him. "Not on your life, this is the most fun I've had in months. But don't worry," she crossed the room to kiss his wide open mouth softly. "I'm sure you can talk to Craig about it when he's Ellie's age."

"But…I…Clara!" the Doctor stropped, as Ellie jumped to her feet to stand beside her mother. They looked scarily alike, almost like two sisters with an age gap rather than a mother and daughter.

"Could you put dinner on honey?" Clara asked sweetly, as the Doctor stalked off into the kitchen. "We're starving over here. Also, Luke's coming over, if that's alright with you?"

The Doctor didn't answer, he merely stomped off.


	182. Dates in a Cafe

***Hey guys, another one for you now! This one is Dates in a Cafe, which came in over on tumblr and I hope you like it! TPD***

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><p>Every Wednesday evening, for as long as she could remember, Clara Oswald had gone into the café across the street, ordered a large breakfast tea and sat down with her laptop to write. It didn't matter what she wrote or how long it took her, but Clara wanted to keep her skills up. It didn't matter that she had a job now, that she was a teacher and that she rarely ever wrote any more or even had time to write anymore. For Clara, those Wednesday evenings had always been a rare moment of peace and tranquillity in her otherwise hectic week, in which she never had a moment to settle. And it was on one of those Wednesdays that she met the Doctor.<p>

His real name wasn't the Doctor of course, his name was John Smith, but he was a Doctor. A Doctor who, like Clara, came in every Wednesday evening, because it was the only time in his busy schedule that he could have a few hours to himself. They only met because Clara hadn't been looking where she was going when she turned about face with her tea in her hand and tripped and tipped the entire boiling cup over his front. He had yelped in extreme pain and Clara had frantically apologised but the whole situation was just hilarious, as he flapped and she patted uselessly at his chest and they both fell about laughing. She'd offered to pay for his coffee and he'd replied that he'd only allow it if she left him join her.

"What, like a date?" she'd teased.

"Only if you want to call it that," he'd laughed in response.

So they'd sat together, Clara had gotten absolutely no writing done, but she hadn't minded, because it had meant that she could talk to the Doctor and she quickly found that she enjoyed talking to him. He was funny and charming and more than just a little bit goofy, but his eccentricity just added to his charm. Between the tweed jacket, the bow tie and the floppy hair, he looked every bit as much the mad scientist that he sounded when he spoke.

The next Wednesday, when Clara walked into the café, he was already there, sat in her usual spot and she realised that he had two drinks on the table. She felt her lips twitch into a smile as she sat down opposite the Doctor, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Fancy seeing you here!" the Doctor laughed. "Same time as last week, it's almost as if you're punctual. You're in luck, I accidentally ordered a spare breakfast tea. I mean, I didn't even order it, they just gave it to me, lucky huh?"

"Very," Clara decided to play along as she accepted the tea from him. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned ahead, Doctor."

"It's a good thing that you know better then," he smirked, sipping his coffee as she took a swig from her tea. It was piping hot, he'd obviously just ordered it, whilst the way he was drinking his coffee, he'd obviously had it for a while. "So how was your day?"

An odd question, considering he hadn't seen her in a week. But it showed care, it showed that he wasn't just interested in the generics, but how she was at that moment and it made Clara smile slightly as she pondered her answer.

"We had a twelve year old piss his pants," Clara replied conversationally, causing the Doctor to choke on his coffee. "Yeah I know, it happens occasionally, it's bloody hilarious, which is bad because laughing at them is the one thing you absolutely cannot do. God I felt bad for him, he's never going to live it down."

"I bet," the Doctor chuckled. There was something in his tone that made Clara frown. "Sorry," he mumbled. "It's just…you have twelve year olds pissing themselves and I have…"

"Twelve year olds dying," Clara finished the sentence for him and reached across the table to take his hand softly. It was an oddly intimate moment between but it made them both feel better. He smiled at her sadly and the rest of the evening seemed to pick up for them. Eventually, it had to end, as all good things did.

"Same time next week?" the Doctor asked with a cheeky grin.

"Absolutely," Clara smirked, resolving to get there early in order to buy him his coffee.

And so she did, pitching up twenty minutes earlier than usual. He was sat across from where she normally sat, a smug look on his face, as he slid her her tea. And she couldn't help but laugh. It was the start of something special.


	183. Obsession, Icicles and Misplacement

***Morning one and all, hopefully a plethora more to come today but let's kick off with a cheeky three word prompt, courtesy of the wonderful Chantelle. Obession, icicles and misplacement, I hope you guys like it! TPD***

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><p>Clara screamed. It was an ear-pitched, piercing scream and the Doctor came flying out of the shower, desperately clinging to the towel wrapped around his waist with one hand, the other clutched around his sonic as he crashed into the main bedroom. He could hear Ellie and Craig thundering towards the bedroom and skidded, collapsing to the floor, the towel barely covering him as the bedroom door swept open and Ellie and Craig fell into the room.<p>

"I found another grey hair!" Clara yelled, whipping around to glare at her husband, who was still spread-eagled on the floor, his towel just about saving his dignity. There was a collective groan from the family, Ellie and Craig grumbling to themselves as they stalked out, slamming the door behind them as the Doctor picked himself up, wrapping the towel tightly around himself as he crossed the room to pull Clara into a hug.

Clara had become obsessed with getting old. The Doctor didn't blame her, especially when he still looked younger than her and was aging much slower, even if his body was giving out on him. But that didn't make her any less of a pain about the whole thing. Every day she was checking her wrinkles, her hair and it had gotten to the point where even the Doctor needed time away from her. She was getting on his last nerve and as she finally broke the hug to pout at him, he knew he was facing another painful conversation.

"I'm getting old," she stated, frowning agitatedly. The Doctor had learned it was best to shut up and let her rant. "I can't believe this, after everything, I'm growing old. Another fucking grey hair, look at it Doctor, look at it!" He glanced up at the grey hair and grabbed the scissors from the side cupboard, snipping away the offender.

"There you go!" he grinned. "No more grey hair!"

Clara looked murderous. "Well it's going to grow back you idiot!"

"Why don't you get that hair dye stuff Ellie suggested?" the Doctor tried and Clara looked like she was about to drive the scissors through one of his hearts.

"Only old woman dye their hair!" Clara growled. "I've not dyed my hair for fifteen years, I'm damn sure not going to start now. You insensitive, stupid…"

Clara went off on one, so the Doctor fled the room, to see Ellie and Craig's smug looks as they hung back in the corridor. He glared at them and then dragged them out to the garden.

"Who wants to go to the planet Tryoxiline?" the Doctor suggested. "They have caves there, full of icicles there made of diamonds, it's utterly incredible, you guys will love it."

Clara knew she was being stupid. But it felt like her whole life with the Doctor was slipping away, day by day. Every grey hair, every wrinkle, brought her one step closer to a day without the Doctor in her life. She had Ellie and she had Craig, but they were growing up faster than she could keep track of and that frightened her an absurd amount. Clara forced herself to relax, even as she heard the TARDIS taking off. She didn't blame the Doctor for needing some time to himself, she'd been running him ragged the last few weeks. Clara didn't really travel anymore. There wasn't a whole lot left for her to see, she enjoyed spending time with the Doctor and their children more and she didn't like knowing that their children were in danger, even if the Doctor insisted that they were safe. She didn't ban them from travelling of course, but the Doctor knew she wasn't the biggest fan and that was enough. That was enough for him to slow up the trips if nothing else.

It wasn't long before she heard the TARDIS gearing back up and she strolled out to meet the Doctor as the TARDIS doors flung open. But it wasn't the Doctor who came haring out the doors, but Ellie, looking ever so slightly frantic, but doing well to hide it.

"Hey Mum," she said, slightly out of breath. "Dad said to come and fetch you."

"Did something happen?" she frowned, looking past Ellie into the TARDIS. "Where is he?"

"He's still on Tryoxiline," Ellie explained. "That's why he sent me to get you, so that you could help us out."

"Wait!" Clara froze. "You flew the TARDIS back here yourself?"

Ellie was nearly the same age that Clara had been when she had first started travelling on the TARDIS. And when she put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at her mother, the resemblance was utterly frightening.

"Really Mum?" she sighed. "We're having this conversation now? You know Dad's been teaching me, you two have had this argument before."

They had. And no matter how many times Clara had voiced her displeasure at the Doctor teaching Ellie to operate the TARDIS, he never took it on board. Still, it was happening whether she liked it or not and, clearly, they had more pressing matters to attend to.

"So why did the Doctor send you to get me?" she asked.

"He needs your help," Ellie explained. "We were in the icicle caves, me, Dad and Craig…"

"Wait! Craig was with you?" Clara took a sharp intake of breath. "Where is he?"

"Dad misplaced him."

"Misplaced him?" Clara's eyes narrowed to slits and Ellie winced at the fury in her voice. "How the fuck did your father misplace Craig?"

"Well," Ellie said matter-of-factly. "One moment, Craig was admiring the icicles with Dad and the next, we turned around and he was gone. Dad's looking for him now, but he told me to come back and get you to assist. Ellie pointed her thumb back at the TARDIS, the doors still hanging open expectantly. "We'd better go, come on!"

Clara was in no position to argue, white hot fury rising inside of her as they stepped into the TARDIS. It was incredibly strange, watching Ellie dance around the TARDIS, the way that he always did. She looked like Clara, but she had taken after the Doctor and it was like watching a ghost of Clara's past-self flying the TARDIS. There was a whoosh and a rumble and then they'd landed and Clara made for the door, Ellie hot on her heels. When they stepped out, Craig and the Doctor were there, waiting for her. She frowned and looked back at Ellie, who smiled knowingly.

"You really think I would misplace my own son?" the Doctor smirked. "Surprise!"

"What?" Clara laughed despite herself. "What is this?"

The icicles around them were dancing, the light bouncing off of them. The Doctor had rigged up a rudimentary projector of sorts, something he'd done on the TARDIS and the net result was that Clara and the Doctor's wedding photos were on every icicle in the cavern, flooded with light and happy memories.

"To me," the Doctor said softly, wrapping his arms around her. "You are still as young and beautiful as the day that we first met. And I want you to know how much I cherish you, every single day. If there is one thing in this world, Clara Oswald, that I will never ever misplace, it is my love for you."

Clara's lips crashed into his. She wasn't obsessed with growing old. Not really. What she was obsessed with, was the Doctor.


	184. Blue

***Hey guys. This one is the day's Doctor Who Fest prompt and it's called: 'Blue'. I hope you guys like it :D TPD***

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><p>"You're blue!" Clara exclaimed as she threw open her front door. The Doctor was stood in front of her, dressed from the neck down in a tight, deep blue Lycra suit, clinging to his body, his face and neck painted blue, his hair either sprayed or dyed the same colour as the TARDIS. "Did the TARDIS play a prank on you or something?"<p>

"No," the Doctor frowned, producing another blue suit from behind him and seeing where this was going, Clara's face fell. "I'm a Smurf! We're going to the planet of the Smurfs and we might need to blend in. Here!" He thrust the suit in her direction. Clara pursed her lips and crossed her arms, giving him her best raised eyebrow.

"No," she told him flatly and his face fell. "There's no such thing as the planet of the Smurfs and if we go, I'm not dressing as a Smurf. I did that once for Halloween it was fucking horrific." The Doctor pouted.

"But Clara…" he begged, giving her his best puppy dog eyes, and Clara sighed. She knew she was going to regret this.

Clara was regretting it the minute that they stepped out of the TARDIS, clad entirely in blue, faces painted, hair dyed. She looked like a complete idiot and cleaning this stuff off of her face and hair was going to be an absolute nightmare. Still, the excitement on the face of the Doctor as they had taken off was enough to convince her that maybe it was worth it. And besides, planet of the Smurfs, it wasn't very often that you got the chance to see that. She was a little bit interested, though she'd never admit it to him.

Once they were out the TARDIS, it took them a while to find the Smurf village, as they traipsed through the forest. Clara was boiling in her full body suit, the forest was warm enough before that anyway and she was sweating buckets, streaking the blue on her face. They found it eventually, coming to a clearing in the forest, and seeing the Smurfs.

"When you said Smurfs," Clara growled. "Did you mean actual, little, blue Smurfs or a race of people who were called Smurfs?"

"Well I assumed that because they were called Smurfs that they would be little and blue!" the Doctor protested. "Not…"

"Not ten feet tall and green?" Clara snarled. The 'Smurfs' were almost twice her size, lumbering great things and green and mossy, almost like trees. To them, she was the Smurf, the small blue, irritating thing. She was glaring furiously at the Doctor, who shrugged and was laughing despite himself. Clara couldn't help but smile at how ludicrous the situation was. They strolled further into the Smurf village, considering that they'd gone to all of this trouble, they might as well investigate. Then one of the Smurfs spotted her and yelled, a powerful, booming sound that made Clara cover her ears and the Doctor's face lit up.

"Ah good," he said, rubbing his hands together. "It seems that they're going to be having a feast! I wonder what's on the menu." Clara paled and shot him a pointed look. The Doctor blinked obliviously, so Clara sighed and then it clicked in his brain. "Oh. We're on the menu aren't we?"

"You think?" Clara responded and then they were running, as the Smurfs moved towards them, with surprising speed, causing the Doctor to curse under his breath as he dragged Clara along behind him, the ground shaking as a crowd of giant Smurfs came hurtling after them. This was one of Clara's most bizarre experiences in the TARDIS, she had to admit, as they crashed back through the trees, eventually collapsing into the TARDIS. Clara looked at the Doctor, the Doctor looked back at Clara and then they laughed.

"We're blue," Clara laughed.

"Those were Smurfs," the Doctor replied, giggling like a maniac.

It was just one of those sorts of days.


	185. Shall We Dance?

***Hey guys, this one is Day 8 of Doctor Who Fest: 'Shall We Dance?'. Some very cute and fluffy dancing Whouffle, I hope that you like it! TPD***

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><p>Clara was in a mood. The Doctor had been an arse the previous week when he'd dropped her off and she wasn't looking forward to him pitching up, acting as if nothing had happened. She hated that he did that. It didn't matter how annoyed she was with him, no matter how much she made it clear to him that she didn't want him to come and see her the next week, every Wednesday, there he would be, acting as if nothing had happened. And it made her blood boil. It made her angry, knowing that he didn't acknowledge her, didn't care about her feelings. He would pitch up, because to him, he had done nothing wrong, to him there was absolutely nothing wrong and if he just showed up, Clara would come running, the way that she always did. And the worst part was knowing that he might even be right. That he might actually succeed in convincing her that she wasn't actually angry with him.<p>

She couldn't even remember what it was that he had done now, but it was something. It was probably a comment, or a lack of trust or he'd tricked her somehow, all of his lies and manipulations tended to blend together, until it felt like Clara was going to bubble over. She was so sick of him, of the way that he treated her. The Doctor acted like she was at his beck and call and she wasn't going to play along anymore.

So when she heard the knocking on her door, Clara stalked over, fully prepared to give the Doctor a piece of her mind. She had already begun to launch into her epic speech about how annoyed she was as she flung open the door, only to stop in her tracks when she saw him. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, with a white bow tie, holding a bouquet of red roses, looking exceedingly forlorn and staring at his shoes.

"You look fancy," Clara offered after a moment of awkward silence fell between them. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm…apologising," the Doctor replied, looking up to meet her eyes and Clara smiled despite herself as he thrust the flowers in her direction and she took them. They did smell lovely. "For being…well me. I was a bit of an arse Clara."

"Only a bit?" Clara smirked and he paled. "Forget about it Chin-Boy," she replied softly. "All I really wanted was for you to realise I was upset, rather than for you to keep on acting like everything was alright. Thank you for the flowers."

"Well that's not all!" the Doctor straightened up and Clara could feel the confidence oozing back into him. "I wanted to take you out, to apologise properly. There's a gala at the Royal French Court in 1564, I was hoping to take you. I have a dress for you, it's inside the TARDIS. I had it specially made. I mean, I guessed your measurements but I'm sure it'll be fine."

Clara bit her lip, trying not to show how impressed she was. The Doctor was giving her his biggest, most pleading eyes and she had to admit, that he knew how to apologise. The sheer fact that he had apologised was in itself a very pleasant surprise. She stepped out of her front door and shut it behind her.

"Well I'm sure I can forgive you," she replied nonchalantly. "As long as the party is good enough. I mean it's not every day a cute guy buys me roses and offers to take me to a 16th Century French Court."

The Doctor spluttered at that and Clara smirked as she stepped into the TARDIS, the Doctor straightening his bow tie behind her as he followed her into the TARDIS. She hung by the door as he regained his composure, darting past her and over to the console.

"Your dress is on your bed!" the Doctor called cheerily, and Clara nodded, heading off to change before they landed. The dress on her bed was absolutely gorgeous, a deep shade of blue to match the TARDIS. She had been expecting red but she knew that occasionally, the Doctor liked to dress her up in his own colours and she had no qualms with blue. She changed quickly, tying her hair into a braid and putting on some light makeup. She stepped out of her room and returned to the console room, just as the Doctor was touching down.

His jaw dropped when he saw her, which made Clara's heart flutter slightly. She felt a blush rising in her cheeks and she fought hard to keep it under control as the Doctor seemed to shake himself back under control and grinned childishly at her. He crossed the room to meet her and he took her arm as they stepped out the TARDIS, his hand fighting hers and squeezing lovingly. Clara's breath hitched in her throat as they stepped out into the fancy area, full of beautiful people mingling and dancing and sipping champagne.

"Shall we dance?" the Doctor whispered in her ear, causing Clara to shudder slightly. She found herself suddenly slightly nervous and she nodded apprehensively, not trusting herself to answer. His smile, soft yet electrifying, welcomed her in and she found herself being led onto the dance floor. Clara's heart was thudding in her chest as the Doctor took her hands in his. She swallowed as he stepped into her and then stepped back and she was happy to follow his lead. The Doctor, she had decided, was a great dancer when he wanted to be. She had seen the way that he usually danced, all flailing limbs and rib-busting hilarity that gave Clara severe second-hand embarrassment. This was something else. This was intimate, the way he lightly caressed her skin, his hands stroking her arms, giving her goosebumps. He pulled her in so close that she could see every tiny fleck of colour in his eyes, feel his breath hot against her cheek and then he was almost throwing her away, like being so close to her physically pained him. Clara felt her feet moving in step almost mechanically, she wasn't thinking about what she was doing, she was thinking about the Doctor and the effect that he was having on her.

"So am I forgiven?" the Doctor asked her softly, as they once again grew close, so close that his voice was a whisper, yet it ricocheted in her brain like he'd shouted it. Then they were apart again, Clara was twirling on the end of his arm and then being whipped back in, her body shivering everywhere that it touched him, their bodies pressed together.

"Yes," she murmured, staring longingly at his lips. "Really, properly forgiven."

And then she kissed him.


	186. Thieves

***Hello one and all! This one came in over on tumblr, asking for 12 and Clara to be art thieves. I hope that you like it! More to come! TPD***

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><p>For Clara Oswald, this was supposed to be her final score. Her final, big moment, to steal Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night from right under the noses of the Museum of Modern Art, which would put Oswin down in history. Oswin was her name, the name she had taken. She always left her little calling card, a literal piece of card with: 'Oswin x' written on it. She had already become famous worldwide for her thefts, some of which were grander than others. She had started small, but managed to steal from almost every major art museum known to man. But this score, this huge final score, would be the one that gave Oswin not just infamy, but a true spot in the history books. Nobody in the art world would ever forget Clara Oswald, even if they would never know that Clara Oswald was Oswin.<p>

But things changed. As things so often did. She should have known, in truth. The warning signs had been there, the rumblings in the underground world, the rumours, one word, repeated over and over again, everywhere that she went. Doctor. She knew the name, everyone did. But hearing the name of an art thief who had disappeared when Clara was just a toddler was not enough to stop her. This was her big moment.

The Doctor, as he had always been known, was a big name in the underground scene, the name that Clara wanted to emulate, to overtake. She wanted Oswin to be bigger than the Doctor, which would be tough. The Doctor was infamous, he had stolen pieces that should have been impossible to steal; he was like a ghost. But then, everything had gone wrong. He had tried to steal the Gutenberg Bible and had been shot in the attempt. Since then, he had never been seen or heard from. He'd vanished as quickly as he'd appeared.

But now, the word was around the streets. The Doctor was back. And he was hungry. Nobody was quite sure what that meant and Clara certainly didn't know. But she didn't let it affect her. She had to keep her mind firmly on her task at hand, on her mission. If she allowed herself to get distracted, she would never be able to steal Starry Night and without it, she could never supplant the Doctor's legacy. She had never even come close to being stopped or caught and that wasn't due to a lack of ambition. By any rights, she should have at least had a close shave by now. But she hadn't. None of this boded well, but then Clara had never been one for superstition, she believed in herself. She could steal the Starry Night. And she would.

So the night came. The night of the Starry Night. Clara got through the outer defences easily enough, but once she was inside, everything went to hell. There was someone already there. She could tell. She could see the tell-tale signs that another thief was present, even if they covered their tracks well. Clara was immediately on edge, looking around every corner, expecting her world to come caving in at any moment. When she reached the Starry Night, there was someone there, almost waiting for her. He was dressed, like her, in dark clothing, but he wasn't wearing a mask. His hair was grey, he was tall and he had an owlish face, a smirk planted on it when he saw her.

"Oswin, I assume?" he asked her, the Scottish tint to his voice clearly and instantly recognisable. She froze, paralysed. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"The Doctor?" she breathed and he nodded gleefully. "You vanished."

"I've been out of the game for over twenty years," he informed her, crossing his arms. "I wasn't going to come back. Until you."

"Until me?" Clara frowned, stepping closer to him, closer to her prize. She came for the Starry Night and she wasn't leaving without it.

"Yes," the Doctor snapped. "Until you Oswin. You see I always knew my legacy would go. Someday. Nobody can hold a place as the greatest thief in history forever. But I was rather hoping I could at least die in the knowledge that I was the best. Then you came along. I heard the rumours, that you were coming for Starry Night. I knew that if you took it, you would supplant me. You would take my crown. I have no intention of letting that happen."

"And how're you going to stop me?" Clara threatened and he laughed at that. "You don't want to get caught. If you do, then your role as the greatest will crash and burn, along with mine. The only way you get out of this, is to take the Starry Night and I won't let you."

"I was proposing," the Doctor smirked. "An alliance. Neither of us is willing to leave without the Starry Night, neither of us is willing to get captured. So the only solution is to work together. The alarm will be going off imminently Oswin, so I suggest you make a decision quickly. The guards won't be long arriving."

As if on cue, the alarm blared and Clara knew that he had her cornered. She ran over to him and helped him with the painting, as he slipped it under his arm and took her hand, a wicked smile planted on his face.

"Run!"


	187. A New Regeneration

***Hey troops! This one came in over on tumblr, asking for 11 to regenerate into a woman, rather than 12. I hope you guys like it! TPD***

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><p>"Please don't change," Clara begged, reaching her hand out towards him as he gave her a small smile and leaned back, emblazoned with orange light, staggering slightly as his whole body seemed to crackle with energy. Clara shielded her face and then he was gone. Her Doctor was gone. Then the light faded and Clara made an odd noise.<p>

"What is it?" the Doctor asked, pushing off from the console. "Clara, what's wrong? Oh God, this is it isn't it? I've finally become a Jobbalore. Oh no, I heard stories of this, of Time Lords whose regenerations went wrong and became Jobbalores. This is it, isn't it, I'm a Jobbalore, that explains why my voice is so high."

Clara didn't reply, her jaw had hit the floor and she was struggling to comprehend the sight in front of her. The Doctor was a woman. She had known that it was possible, she supposed, but that didn't make it any easier to take, now that the man that she loved was a woman. Gathered, a very-Doctorish woman but a woman nevertheless. She was tall, only just shorter than she had been, so a good seven or eight inches taller than Clara. Her hair was jet black and long, flowing down her body, which was all limbs. Her face was very different, more angled with brown eyes and, depressingly, she had almost no chin, it was so minuscular Clara wondered if she even had a chin at all.

"Doctor," Clara said quietly, still coming to terms with it herself. "You're a woman."

"Oh thank God for that," she replied with a laugh. "Oh those arms, look at those arms and the legs, blimey this suit does not do the new me justice. Ahh, the hair, where did it all come from? How do you deal with it Clara?" she was exploring her new body and Clara felt a bit faint, watching the Doctor run her hands up and down.

There was an almighty ruckus at that moment and the Doctor turned back to the console, frowning. Clara stumbled slightly towards her and the Doctor spared Clara a glance before flipping buttons, switches and levers, the TARDIS wheezing and groaning as they hurtled on through the vortex. Clara grabbed onto the nearest railing, holding on for dear life as they veered on.

"Sorry!" the Doctor called in her new, sing song voice. "I've got this."

The TARDIS settled and the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief as they landed safely. She whipped round to smile at Clara and her smile lit up her face, made Clara want to smile with her. The Doctor relaxed, one hand on the TARDIS console, the other immersed in her dark hair as her eyes locked onto Clara.

"So how do I look?"

Clara didn't really know how to respond; she merely nodded encouragingly and gave the Doctor a thumbs up to indicate that she looked good.

The next few weeks turned out to be incredibly difficult for Clara. The Doctor was getting used to her new body and that made life difficult to say the least. Just when Clara was getting settled, the Doctor would be hammering on her front door about some crisis or another.

"Clara!" the Doctor yelled. "I don't have any bras! Apparently I need bras, dammit Clara, I need a completely new wardrobe why haven't you fixed it already?"

So Clara had to take the Doctor bra shopping, which was simultaneously the oddest and most funny afternoon of her life, the Doctor flailing around in the brasserie section of Marks and Spencer's whilst Clara watched on helplessly. Eventually, the Doctor got measured, which she found a traumatic experience and kept shouting for Clara, who didn't bother to tell the Doctor that she was waiting outside. It turned out that the Doctor was a 32C and bought a load of bras, yet another experience that Clara wasn't quite comfortable with.

Once that little nightmare was over and done with, Clara took the Doctor out for dinner and she ate enough to make Clara's jaw drop. This new Doctor was very blunt, very brash and, it seemed, wholly dependent on Clara.

A few days later, the TARDIS materialised in her bedroom at 3am, causing Clara to groan and scream into her pillow in frustration as she sat up. The Doctor came tumbling out the TARDIS, wearing a black suit jacket and matching trousers, looking distinctly unimpressed as she crossed her arms at Clara.

"Hair."

"Hair?" Clara replied sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"There's so much of it!" the Doctor protested. "Everywhere! What do I do with it all?"

And that was how Clara ended up teaching the Doctor the joys of conditioning and hair oils at 4am, when she had to be up in a matter of hours to go to school. She was not happy, but the Doctor was still fresh post-regeneration and figuring out her new body and Clara felt awful leaving her to her own devices.

"Can I come and grab a few hours' sleep on the TARDIS whilst you work out how all this stuff works?" Clara asked, yawning viciously, pleading with the Doctor with her eyes.

"If you must," the Doctor smiled, that same electrifying smile, which sent a shiver down Clara's spine. "Thank you again Clara, I don't know what I'd do without you."

The Doctor pulled Clara into a long, warm hug and Clara responded in kind and then the Doctor kissed her forehead. Clara felt herself blushing, as the Doctor turned back to the TARDIS and Clara followed. It occurred to her that she hadn't thought about the Doctor that way since the regeneration and she wondered whether she thought of Clara that way, even assuming that she had back when she'd been male.

Clara got a good, long night's sleep, which made her feel a lot better and as she walked into the console room, the Doctor was there, flipping a few switches. Clara watched her work, and it was very easy to see this alien, unfamiliar presence as the Doctor when she was working, being the Doctor, as opposed to trying on bras and talking about hair care.

"Do you fancy?" the Doctor asked, whipping round to give Clara a look. "A quick trip, before you go to school? I mean, we've not really travelled together since…well since Trenzalore. And I still want you by my side, on board. I am still the Doctor, you know that right?"

Clara crossed the distance between them, leaning up to kiss the Doctor's cheek.

"I know you are," she whispered. "Let's go."


	188. Goodbye

***Hey friends! Today's DW Fest prompt is a brutal prompt. Take your pick between the saddest moment in Who or 'Goodbye'. So have some major Whouffle/Clara Oswald/Time of the Doctor feels. I hope you like TPD***

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><p>He hadn't even said goodbye. That was the worst thing. Clara sat at her dinner table, Christmas dinner all around her, her whole world in shattered pieces on the floor. The laughing, the joking, it was all so alien to her. She wanted out, she needed to see him. Just one last time. She needed to find her Doctor and say goodbye, if nothing else. The thought that he expected her to sit here, eating Christmas dinner with her family, pretending that everything was going to be okay, whilst he was off on Trenzalore, made her angry more than anything else. But Clara had no time for anger, she was just upset. She was just so lost, unsure where to go from here. She had made sure that she was independent, made sure that she didn't need the Doctor in her life, but that wasn't the point. She knew what she would do, but it didn't feel right. She would go back to her job, carry on her life. But what was the point? She had a life outside the Doctor, a life to go back to, but it was empty, hollow, and nonsensical. Tinged with the reminder that that was it, he would never come back for her, but all the same she would look. Every day, she would hope, she would look around, almost expecting the TARDIS noise. He would haunt her for the rest of her life.<p>

He had already started to haunt her. She was already starting to lose it, she could already hear that damned TARDIS, torturing her inside her mind. But then, she realised. It wasn't inside her head. The Doctor.

She didn't think, she just ran. She couldn't stop her legs pounding, her heart thudding against her chest. Nothing else mattered but him. He'd dumped her behind twice, never again. She wasn't going to say goodbye. She wasn't.

But it wasn't him inside the TARDIS, it was Tasha Lem and all at once, Clara realised that she was going to have to say goodbye. And the knowledge broke her all over again. She was quiet as the TARDIS touched down back on Trenzalore, stepping out into the battle field. And there he was. Her Doctor. He was so old, so near the end and so different, that Clara could feel fresh waves of tears fighting the corners of her eyes. She had to hold on, for him. She had to be strong, for the Doctor. She had to be strong for the both of them. There had to be a way to save him. She wasn't going to let him die. There had to be a way to change the future, there was always a way.

"My Impossible Girl. Thank you. And goodbye."

He'd said it. Clara had actually preferred it when he hadn't. When he'd not said goodbye and she felt fury rising up inside her. The Doctor needed Time Lords, well she knew where there Time Lords to spare. It was all she could do not to scream at them as she knelt beside the crack in the wall. There were Time Lords on the other side. They could save him. They had to save him. They just had to.

"Listen to me, you lot. Listen! Help him. Help him change the future. Do it. Do something. You've been asking a question. And it's time someone told you you've been getting it wrong. His name, his name is the Doctor. All the name he needs. Everything you need to know about him. And if you love him, and you should, help him. Help him."

That was it. That was all she could do. If those idiots didn't understand who he was, what he had done, what he had earned, then there was nothing that she could do. There was nothing that anyone could do. The Doctor deserved a new life, more than anyone she had ever met. Then, as if her prayers were answered, the crack closed. Clara heard carnage above her and she raced out into the courtyard.

He was alive. She'd done it. Above her, she could see the orange glow, the regeneration light and she felt her heart soar. No goodbye. She'd done it, she'd saved the Doctor. But she had bigger things to worry about, swathes of Daleks approaching and the bell tower was the heart of the cacophony. Clara found cover, but her priority was saving the children, which she ushered in alongside her.

And when the dust settled, Clara found herself going for the TARDIS. The phone was hanging off, so she replaced it. It seemed the Doctor had had time to call someone. She entered the TARDIS and then she saw him.

He was still him. Clara had mentally prepared herself for losing him, losing the Doctor that she loved but she had decided that of course it was worth it, to have another Doctor out there, saving people. She hadn't saved the Doctor for herself, she had saved him for everyone else. Having her own Doctor back was just an unexpected bonus. She allowed herself to have a moment to scream with joy, with happiness. She'd done it. They'd both made it out in one piece.

And then he broke her all over again. Just when she had thought that after everything, after losing him, having River and Tasha Lem and everything else rubbed in her face, after being sent away twice, having been naked, humiliated, put in danger, all of which she was happy to do for him, her Doctor, he still found one more way to break her. Because he was going to change after all.

And Clara hated it. And she hated herself for hating it, but she had prepared herself for it, only to strip away that preparation. He had given her hope and now he was taking it away, ripping it from her in the most brutal fashion imaginable. She had saved him, there would be a Doctor. Now Clara allowed herself to be selfish. She had spent her whole day putting him first, doing whatever it took, for him, for Trenzalore, for the universe. Hadn't she earned one little victory, just for her? Hadn't she earned the right to win? Didn't she deserve to be selfish for once in her life, when all she had ever done was put other people first?

"Please don't change!" she begged him, because that was what it was. She was begging the universe, just once, to give her a break. To let her keep someone she loved.

And then, he stretched out his hand to her and she was struggling to breathe.

"Hey," he whispered. It wasn't goodbye. But it was as close to goodbye as Clara Oswald was ever going to get. And then, he regenerated.


	189. The First Time Since Trenzalore

***Hey guys, two in a row, because I forgot to upload this an hour ago (whoops). Anyway, this was another one from tumblr, asking for Clara to have a near-death experience post Trenzalore that shakes up the Doctor. I hope that you like it! TPD***

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><p>Everything had changed since Trenzalore. They both knew it, but they were both afraid to say anything, afraid that by mentioning it, it would become real. There was an intensity to their relationship that hadn't been there before, that neither of them were quite sure how to deal with. So when they had their first real moment since Trenzalore, it became painfully obvious to them that they couldn't go on pretending that nothing had changed.<p>

Clara had spent a few weeks at home when he came to pick her up, acting as if nothing had happened. At first, that was the way she preferred it. After all, she'd been affected deeply by what she had experienced at Trenzalore, it would do her good just to go on a regular old trip with her Doctor, have a bit of fun, maybe save a planet or two and they'd be home in time for tea.

But it didn't turn out that way. Of course it didn't. It never did where the Doctor was concerned. Clara could scarcely believe that she had ever thought that it would go well, but even so. They landed in what the Doctor referred to as the Time Era, a period of time shortly before the Time War where more and more species were developing time travel. He told Clara that his people had put a stop to all that, but that didn't mean that the era was rife with problems and rife with battles, whole wars over time travel. They weren't Time Wars, nothing could ever live up to that, but when Clara and the Doctor ended up in one of the smaller skirmishes, they were in all kinds of trouble. They ended up separated, from each other and the TARDIS and the Doctor had to dismantle about ten different weapon systems, not to mention stopping five different types of time travel, before he found Clara.

She was already in a bad way when he found her. The exposure to the time winds of Trenzalore had weakened her and being so exposed to a time war of sorts left her rocking.

She was barely able to stand when the Doctor reached her, propping her up as he helped her back towards the TARDIS. To get back to the TARDIS, they had to cross a battlefield and Clara refused to let the Doctor carry her, insisting that she was fine to walk, despite his protestations. They were about two steps from the door when the Doctor heard the shot, could practically feel the heat of the laser from his position. But what really hit him, was the feeling of Clara going limp beside him, collapsing, even as he swept his other hand around to stop her falling to the ground.

His heart stopped beating, his brain stopped working, his breath died in his throat, as he carried Clara into the TARDIS. She was barely breathing, shaking in agony, her entire body cold and pale. He set her down in the medical bay, praying for a miracle as he found the point that the laser entered her back.

The Doctor worked all night. He was in the TARDIS med bay with Clara for hours upon hours, never stopping, never tiring, just working on her, hour after hour, not even allowing himself a moment to rest. He would not lose her again, could not lose her again, even more so, knowing that this time there were no second chances. She was Clara, she wasn't an echo, if he lost her, and there was no going back.

But he didn't lose her. After what seemed like a hundred years for the Doctor, he lay her back in her bed and her eyes finally, agonisingly, fluttered open. His heart skipped a beat. His hand was on her face, caressing it but he had no idea how it had gotten there. He must've been in really close to her, because her eyes were wide when she took him in and he went to move back, but she reached up to pull him closer.

"I'm alive?" she mumbled.

"Yes!" the Doctor laughed, kissing her forehead and wrapping his arms around her as she sat up. "Clara, my Clara. Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

She reached up to reciprocate the hug and it was several moments of severe entanglement before they realised.

"Something's changed," Clara sighed. "Hasn't it?"

"I rather think everything's changed," the Doctor replied with a smile. "I'm sorry Clara. I'm sorry that I treated you like a mystery, like an enigma, like my impossible girl. You're something so much better and brighter and so much more perfect than that."

"And what's that?" Clara laughed, blushing slightly.

"You," the Doctor informed her. "Are Clara Oswald. And Clara Oswald deserves the best. You nearly died."

"The first near-death experience since Trenzalore," Clara giggled despite herself, and kissed the Doctor's cheek softly. "I'll be sure to mark it on the calendar."

The Doctor paled and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't joke about that Clara," he muttered. "I can't lose you again. You're… you're actually Clara now. If I lose you…"

"You won't," Clara said firmly, their eyes meeting. "I promise."


	190. Rival Tribes

***Hey troops, this one came in anonymously over tumblr, asking for the Doctor and Clara to be heads of rival tribes. I hope you guys like it, speak soon! TPD***

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><p>Clara loved new planets. There was always a feel, stepping out of the TARDIS that anything and everything could be beyond those doors. She wondered if after all of these years, the Doctor still got that kick. But then, she supposed, if he didn't, he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't keep travelling. He'd have given it up otherwise. She understood that. If there became a time when the travelling stopped having that effect on her, she hoped that she'd have the courage to leave. She hoped it never came to that, as she didn't just love the travelling, but the man that she was travelling with. Not that she'd ever tell him that of course. She'd sooner throw herself off of the nearest cliff.<p>

The planet that they were on was dense with woodland, trees with gorgeous turquoise leaves hanging from the trees and greenish raindrops dripping from them, landing in small puddles on the damp earth. Clara took a long, deep sniff, letting the aroma of the forest overwhelm her senses. Then she was hit hard by a different scent as the Doctor stepped out beside her, his warmth making her nauseous as it crashed through her nostrils.

"Shall we?" he offered, extending a hand. She took the hand and gave him a brief smile as they stepped into the forest, the Doctor clicking his fingers to shut the TARDIS doors behind them. She loved that, the swagger, the arrogance, it suited him. The Doctor was incredibly cute and endearing when he was bumbling, but when he was cocky, when he had a spring in his step, a confident, almost lazy smile on his face, he was downright sexy. Clara bit her lip as they strolled, the Doctor pointing out things that made no sense to her. She didn't even care what he was saying; she could listen to his voice all day.

They were walking on the side of what was somewhere between a cliff and a hill. The fall was quite far down, jagged with stumps and branches and tangled weeds and thorns, but fairly traversable if they wanted to take it slowly. It was steep, but not overly steep and Clara was half-contemplating asking him if they could head down, into the lush bluery at the bottom, but she didn't want to risk it.

Then, his clumsiness returned. As much as Clara loved sexy, swaggering Doctor, it still made her giggle uncontrollably when he stumbled, releasing his grip on her hand to avoid taking her with him. However, as he flailed, he didn't just fall over the tree stump. He flailed forwards, lost his footing and, alarmingly, lurched sideways. Clara lunged for his hand, but it was too late. The Doctor was already tumbling, rolling agonisingly down the incline, limbs flailing as he fell. Clara screamed his name and then he was gone from sight, his battered body rolling into the trees and out of sight. Clara was weighing up the best way to follow him, trying to work out the best, safest route down the slope, when they came bursting out from the trees. Locals.

Clara panicked. She didn't know what to do, what was going on. The locals were not sophisticated, which was incredibly frustrating. No, these were savages, some sort of tribe, a gaggle of little more than caveman, with sticks and stones as their weapons, dressed all in red. There were ten men in all, eight women, with a cluster of children. The older kids, maybe older than ten were also carrying spears and stones, the younger ones were either hanging back or on the backs of their mothers. Clara swallowed. She knew the TARDIS translation matrix would work, but it depended on how intelligent their language was. She raised her hands defensively as they encircled her. She could push past one of them, race down the hill but that would be suicide. Even if she didn't break her neck falling down after the Doctor, there were more of them, they were faster and knew the area better. Plus all it would take was one well thrown spear or stone and Clara was dead. No, it was better not to provoke them.

Nevertheless, she was contemplating some sort of action, when one step forwards and fell to his knees, bowing low and hard to Clara. She swallowed, as more fell, kneeling, heads pressed towards the floor. The children were doing it, the women were doing it. They were dropping their spears and stones and Clara frowned slightly and put her hands down. A chant went up. The word was unfamiliar to Clara, but the TARDIS worked on it. It was primitive, difficult to interpret, but after a few moments, its meaning rang around Clara's head, so that it was perfectly obvious to her what they were saying, even as their literal speech changed. They were chanting: 'Goddess'.

The Doctor hurt everywhere. Falling had been a mistake, one he hoped he wouldn't have to repeat. His entire body was scratched and bruised and he picked himself up slowly, savouring the moments that he could lie in the dirt, which was oddly soothing. He opened his eyes, pushed off from the ground and flipped himself into a sitting position. There was a spear approximately 5cm from his throat. The Doctor froze, staring up at the faces of the tribe. There were nearly thirty of them, men women and children, all clad in blue with blue face paint. They were looking at him like he was some sort of deity and this was confirmed when they started chanting, the chant some sort of mystic prayer that the Doctor wrestled with interpreting. The exact words didn't matter, as he stood up and they all fell to their knees. What mattered was that they thought he was their God. The Doctor groaned in pain and they fell into a hushed silence.

"Ummm," the Doctor mumbled and they stared at him, wide-eyed, waiting for the word of their God. "I am the Doctor." They went into uproar, chanting his name over and over again and the Doctor couldn't help but smile a little bit. "Take me to the top of the hill!" he commanded and found himself being hoisted onto the shoulders of the closest man, who was much taller and beefier than the Doctor. As the tribe, the Doctor aloft, reached the top of the hill, the Doctor looking around and shouting her name, his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Clara was gone.

Clara was lifted onto the throne, a red cloak draped around her and a small crown of sticks placed on her head. She smiled despite the situation as they offered her a mostly-cooked chicken that had been roasted on a stick. Feeling it would be rude to decline and also because she was starving, Clara gobbled it up, feeling immensely guilty as they looked up at her with their big, wide-eyes. She'd been taken to their cave a few hours previously and now that they were all gathered, some having been out scouting, they were worshipping her.

"Um, hi!" she said nervously and they gabbled, whispering to each other for a moment before falling completely silent. "I'm Clara. Can you help me find my friend? He's uh…wearing purple tweed? Crazy hair? Big chin?" She tried to mimic the Doctor's chin and their eyes grew wider and they mumbled to themselves before one stepped forwards.

"He leads the others now," the man snarled. "He is the false God, the false prophet. The other tribe are our foes, they worship the false prophet. We will execute the blasphemer."

"Execute the blasphemer," the chant rose up and Clara felt horror rising up inside her.

"No!" she yelled and they fell silent, watching her, confused and angry. She could sense their unease and managed to pull herself together. She needed to be convincing. "Bring the blasphemer to me, for I wish to deal with him personally. Anyone who harms or kills the false prophet will be banished and punished by my might!" she said commandingly, supressing the urge to giggle as they all gasped and bowed before her. "Also, the blasphemer has a box. This box is evil, I will have it brought to me, for only I am strong enough to destroy it!"

There was a clamour, as the main hunters of the tribe rose, thundering towards the exit, and Clara smirked to herself as they did so. She was pretty pleased, this had gone well. Hopefully, within a few hours, she would have the Doctor and the TARDIS by her side and they could escape. So she sat and waited. The children were restless around her, so she climbed off of her throne to play with them. She could see the awe written all over the faces of the tribeswomen as Clara played with their children, as they were questioning how their God could possibly lower herself to their level. But Clara liked that, she liked to show them that no matter whom you were you weren't better than anyone.

It was longer than she expected before the tribe returned. She's been there for almost twelve hours and was stupidly tired. She grew increasingly worried, as she missed the Doctor terribly and she just wanted to go home. She laid there, on the stone floor, the children asleep around her, when she heard the noise. A thunderous noise, a yelling like she'd never heard before. It was in the distance at first, but as it got closer and closer, Clara felt hope and dread rising up within her in equal measure. She got to her feet, slowly, looking around nervously. And then the cave they were in was flooded with men, loudly screeching, spears in hand, and dressed all in blue. Clara felt panic rise up and she yelled, trying to wake the children and get them to safety, but it was too late. The men in blue weren't killing anyone, but that didn't stop Clara feeling fearful as they surrounded her and her heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

"Bring the false Goddess to me!" came a familiar voice and Clara breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly, he'd had the same idea as her. She was half-dragged out of the cave, though she walked swiftly of her own accord. The Doctor was stood outside, leaning against the TARDIS, smirking as Clara walked up to him, so close that she could feel his breath on her face.

"Doctor," she greeted with a grin.

"Clara," he replied, looking around briefly at the two tribes who encircled them. "Shall we?"

"I think it's best that we do," she replied.

"I'll be back," the Doctor announced loudly. "I'm just going to deal with the false prophet in my magic box. No killing, you understand me?"

There was a chorus of nods and agreements as the Doctor grabbed Clara's arm to look the part and roughly threw her through the open TARDIS doors, Clara's mock-screaming turning to laughter the second that the doors were shut.

"Slick acting out there Chin-Boy," she giggled as the Doctor kicked the TARDIS into flight. "They didn't kill the tribesmen I sent for you did they?"

"Nah, I got them locked up," the Doctor smirked. "Hey Clara, guess what?"

"What?" she asked with a smile, happy just to have him back as she crossed the room to touch his arm.

"My tribe is better than your tribe."

She didn't have a response to that, so she just laughed and punched him. It was good to be home.


	191. I'll Save You

***Hey troops. Fucking hell it's late, I'm tired, but here's today DW Fest Prompt because damn it all I will finish all of them. I hope you like it, it's called: I'll Save You. TPD***

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><p>"I'll save you," the Doctor promised her as his arms were bound behind his back and he was dragged around the corner and out of sight. Clara felt her head being jerked back as the man yanked on her hair, so hard she feared it would rip out as her skull snapped back and her hands were bound, the handcuffs biting painfully into her wrists. She gasped in pain as she was dragged away, the opposite direction to the Doctor, yelping in pain. She was being pulled by her hair, so she had to keep up to avoid the agonising tugging. Before she knew it, she was being hurled into a plain white cell, the walls metallic and the door sliding shut behind her.<p>

How had they ended up here? She sat on the lowly bunk as she thought about it. They were in the future, in the year 3405. The world had changed, but some things never did. Like her and the Doctor's ability to get into trouble. They had broken into a secure military facility to try and stop the military launching a satellite that could be used to destroy the Earth. And, naturally, they had made it about two steps into the base before every alarm in the place went off and they were surrounded by guards with guns. It was not a pleasant experience, it never was where the guns were concerned. They were taking the Doctor to interrogation first, leaving Clara to stew for a while. Which gave them the upper hand. The Doctor had promised to save Clara. But currently, they were poking him and prodding him with Lord knows what, desperate to pluck his secrets. Clara couldn't let that happen. She looked around the room. The door was glass, so she could see the outside of her cell, but more importantly, they could see inside. If she tried anything, they'd know about it instantly. Clara knew that that meant that she had to work fast. She waited until the guard had turned his back, shifting away from her, just for an instant and then the sonic was out, aiming straight at the security cameras. That would buy her a few more seconds.

Then she went for the door, sonicing it open as she to it. It slid open and Clara stepped out. The guard was already turning but Clara was quicker, her hand on his gun and she wrenched it off him, stumbling back. She had no intention of firing it, but he didn't know that.

"In the cell," Clara ordered, pointing towards it with the butt of the gun. The man obeyed, eyeing his weapon warily. She didn't need to ask where the Doctor was being kept, her sonic linked up with his. She followed the signal through the corridors, keeping low and sticking to corners until it was safe to move. The gun felt ugly and heavy in her hands, but it was a defence. She wouldn't fire it, but having it made her feel better.

She could hear the screams of the Doctor before she reached him and that hurt more than anything that they could be doing to him. She twisted the wedding band on her finger and took a deep breath. She needed a way to get him out. She would worry about that later. Now, all that mattered was getting to him, his screams were breaking her heart. Clara soniced open the door. There were three men in the room with him, two of them armed but neither of them reacted fast enough as Clara pointed her own gun at them. The other one was the one torturing the Doctor, pressing a long, thin rod into his chest.

"Drop your weapons," Clara demanded in what she hoped was a convincing voice. She still knew that she wouldn't shoot them, but her confidence in that assertion was wavering at seeing the man she loved in pain. "Set him down."

"Clara," he wheezed as he was lowered down. He was topless and looked in serious pain, but he could stand when forced to. "Please, just get back to the TARDIS."

"Without you?" she snorted. "Are you insane? No, this time Chin-Boy, I'll save you."

He nodded and staggered towards her as she flicked her gun back towards the scientist. "Clothes, fetch."

She knew that they didn't have long, but the reassurance she was given by the fact that the Doctor's bow tie was wrapped around his neck was incalculable. The alarms were already sounding again and she exchanged a look with the Doctor.

"Run?"

"Run."


	192. Forget-Me-Nots

***Tired...words...prompts. Hey guys. Forget-Me-Nots. Sorry. Sleep. TPD***

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><p>The Doctor had started buying Clara flowers. This was a recent development and a somewhat odd one, but one that she appreciated nevertheless. She had no idea how it had started or why it had started, but one day, she arrived at her classroom with a bouquet of forget-me-nots sat on her desk. Clara had smiled and giggled when she'd realised who they were from and she'd put them in a vase in her classroom. They sat there, cheerfully, happily, a reminder to Clara of the Doctor. And she had absolutely no idea why he'd done it.<p>

The next day, when he picked her up to take her out, she'd asked him about it, giving him her best smile and her biggest eyes and he had completely ignored her, stating that he didn't know what she was talking about and he was back to being his old, grumping self. He had been perpetually grumpy, rude and mean towards her since his regeneration and Clara had no idea why he was being this way and, worse, she had no idea why he even bothered to pick her up at all, when he clearly didn't care for her at all, at least not the way she saw it.

Which was made the flowers all the more confusing, all the more stressful for Clara, which she didn't understand at all. If he truly cared about her, why was he doing this to her? Nothing added up in her head, but at least the flowers made her smile. There were times when she really got the impression that he was trying, but things just kept falling apart.

And then one day, they argued, really argued. Clara had stormed out of the TARDIS, almost in tears and absolutely furious, only to find a bouquet of forget-me-nots waiting for her on the table in her apartment. He'd obviously gone back in time and let himself in so that he could plant them for her. She was so angry and so confused, yet the forget-me-nots made her smile despite herself. This time, the message was clear. I'm sorry.

But it was more than that, Clara knew it. She just didn't know what he wanted to say to her. He came back the following week, as if nothing had happened. And Clara went along with it. She wasn't sure why, why she was humouring him, why she was playing his game, but nevertheless she was. Maybe it was because she knew, deep down, he was still the Doctor or maybe it was because there was still something, something reminding her that he cared about her.

So they kept coming. At the oddest of times, just when Clara had suspected that he had stopped, or that he'd at least wait a little longer, they would pop up in the strangest of places. Forget-me-nots. And it took her a while, but eventually Clara got the message.

I need you. Don't leave me. Don't forget me. And Clara knew, whenever she got the forget-me-nots that her Doctor was still in there. He was still the Doctor.


End file.
